The Vanguard: Broken World
by Archerlord
Summary: The Dark Portal has been opened, leading to the broken world that was once called Draenor. Now known as Outland, both the Alliance and Horde send expeditions through the portal. However, the expeditions face both the Illidari and Burning Legion on the other side. With many threats on this world, individuals from both factions must learn to toss aside old hatred and work together.
1. Hellfire

Oliktalv Warfury heard the reports of what was on the other side of the Dark Portal. From outside the walls of Thrallmar, his eyes scanned the vast, barren wasteland of Hellfire Peninsula. He had heard that this was the former world of his people. He was born on Draenor, but he was far too young to remember the land before him now. Some of the elder soldiers on the expedition spoke of the ground they they stand on being a jungle, and he believed the stories to be true. Yet, this was not Draenor anymore. This was now Outland, a twisted and broken world.

In the last two weeks, Oliktalv led five hundred soldiers of the Horde into multiple battles against the Burning Legion and the Fel Horde. They were the main threats to Thrallmar, but so far, they have not been defeated yet. To make matters worst, there have been heavy casualties on his side. Hopefully, reinforcements will arrive to help him. Until then, he could only wait for Nazgrel to tell him where to attack next.

He then realized that he was no longer alone as he heard footsteps coming from behind him. Oliktalv turned his head, facing Dal'bin, one of his most trusted scouts. Dal'bin towered over the commander, being a head taller, and styled his bright, red hair into a mohawk. His figure was slim, and he wore leather armor similar to the armor Oliktalv wore. Slinged behind his back was a rifle. When first meeting him, he was surprised by the choice of weapon, but the troll proved to be a deadly adversary with it. His face showed experience, with light scars and a deformed nose, likely broken from a fight before, yet Oliktalv knew that these scars hid the troll's youth.

"Commander," Dal'bin greeted, saluting the commander.

"Dal'bin," Oliktalv acknowledged, turning to face him. "Is there something you need?"

"Yeah, mon," Dal'bin said, nodding. "Nazgrel told me ta give ya new orders. We be needin' ta find a way ta end da Burning Legion's assault on da Dark Portal."

Oliktalv did his best to hide his shock from this announcement. He knew that the defenders of the Dark Portal fought against demons every day to ensure that the way back to Azeroth remains secured. He knew that it would be a good idea to deal with the demons while they were focused on attacking. Yet, Nazgrel was asking too much from him. His men, while experienced warriors, were not enough to stop the Burning Legion. That ruled out frontal assault on wherever the demons were coming. They would need both strategy and a miracle to secure a victory.

"It be a good idea. Da soldiers at da portal be fightin' ta hold out," Dal'bin told him. "Dey be needin' a break, mon."

"I know," Oliktalv replied. "But we cannot stop the Burning Legion so easily. They have numerous numbers of demons, so unless we can ensure that no reinforcements come, we'll fail with any offensive."

"I be thinkin' dat da Legion be needin' portals to bring more demons," Dal'bin said. "I can never get close enough ta find out. Dere be too many demons."

"Yes. If we can find out where they are, we can make plans for destroying them," Oliktalv said, rubbing his chin as he started to think of a plan. "If the demons are distracted, can you find the portals?"

" Yeah, but ya don't have da men to hold out a long assault, mon" Dal'bin told him. "Ya best be waitin' for reinforcements. Dey will be here tomorrow."

Oliktalv was glad he was getting reinforcements. Maybe they will be enough to battle the Burning Legion. However, Oliktalv would have to believe that they are not enough for victory. As a leader, he needed to think of every possible scenario, including if the plan failed. Regardless, the plan needed to start now. He cannot wait for reinforcements and risk fighting more demons. They would be better off helping destroy the portals than to be a distraction.

"As much as I would like to have more orcs to fight with us," Oliktalv started. "We cannot wait. We must find out about the portals today."

"Well, dere be no orcs," Dal'bin corrected him. "From what I heard, dey be Forsaken and our new allies, da blood elves."

Oliktalv heard of both of the undead Forsaken and the blood elves. He recalled that the Forsaken are not only undead, which he despised, but were once part of the Scourge. Even though they were loyal to the Horde, many were once enemies to the orcs in life. Although Oliktalv was too young to have fought in the Second War, he remembered the harsh treatment in the internment camps. He would not trust the Forsaken, but he would have to forget about his personal grudge in order to lead effectively. As for the blood elves, he knew little of them since they are the newest faction to join the Horde. He knew that they were once of the Alliance as high elves and fought against the Horde in the Second War. He was not sure why they joined the Horde, but they still need to earn his trust.

"That doesn't change anything," Oliktalv told him. "We continue as planned. I'll rally up my soldiers and prepare for battle. Once the battle begins, find the portals. Signal the retreat if you're discovered. I do not want to lose one of my best scouts. Now go."

Dal'bin saluted again, and ran east, towards the Legion Front. Oliktalv knew that the troll would follow his orders without question. He knew that no matter what the command was, Dal'bin would follow it. He knew that if he told Dal'bin to do the impossible, Dal'bin would still follow orders. He knew that if he fought in a battle where defeat and death were certain, Dal'bin would be right behind him in the charge. He expected such loyalty to be found in orcs only and not from a troll. Oliktalv smiled to himself, glad he was wrong.

Oliktalv turned back to Thrallmar, walking back. His men were already ready for battle, and only needed the order to march. This battle, he was not sure how many would make it to the next battle. He was not sure if he would survive today. Still, Oliktalv knew that he was going to do everything he can do to make sure as many soldiers as possible make it to see the next day. He has his orders, and he will follow them, no matter what the cost is.

* * *

 **Author Notes: Hey Everyone. I'm Archer, and this is my first fanfiction!**

 **Let me tell you a little bit a background real quick. I was home schooled through about half of my elementary school days, and during that time, Warcraft 3 quickly became one of my favorite games, which I still play today. Not long after that, I started to play World of Warcraft on my dad's account, and now, I have my own account. Something that has stuck with me through those days today is that I'm still very imaginative. This imagination I have was actually what first started my idea for this story. Over time, this idea evolved into multiple variations, and I'm proud that I'm now brave enough to actually publish something that I've written, which has always been one of my flaws**

 **I know this chapter doesn't have a lot of action in it, which is one of the main topics I love writing, but it helps build up the plot for what's to come. Also, I decided to set this chapter during BC because that's around the time where I first started to play WoW. I'm still writing Broken World, and with my busy schedule, I cannot make a promise on when I'll add an update. My goal right now is to aim for one chapter a week, but if I'm extra free time, I will do everything I can to add more to this story. If you managed to get this far, feel free to leave a review. Until next time.**


	2. Bitter Defeat

The remaining orcs marched in formation, approaching the Legion Front. Two weeks ago, Oliktalv led five hundred soldiers into battle. Now, there were at most two hundred still alive. Now at the front, he started to think about whether the heavy casualties were due to fighting the enemy, or because of his leadership. He made plenty of mistakes, and those mistakes cost the lives of his soldiers. Still, he was proud to admit that even the losses, he always secured victory, and fought alongside his men in battle.

As he stopped, he raised his hand up in the air, signaling for the rest of his soldiers to stop. The marching stopped in unison as they looked towards the Legion Front. Demons of all types roamed the land, not yet having noticed the band of orcs. He could not make out too much details, but knew that it would be a tough fight ahead. Oliktalv hoped that the sneak attack would surprise the Burning Legion, making them slow in prepare for a defense. Still, this attack was not meant to defeat the demons, only to distract. In hindsight, he realized that after this attack, the Burning Legion would be ready to defend from another attack. He cursed himself silently for forgetting such a small detail that could cause trouble later. For now, he needed to continue, and find a new way to proceed with the plan.

"Sir," Gotur Bonelash calls out as he approaches Oliktalv. Gotur was the second in command of the soldiers and a skilled warrior. He wore dark and heavy armor while carrying a huge battle ax in one hand. His head was shaved and his skin was a lighter green compared to Oliktalv. He stood taller than most of the orcs and his armor hid his bulky figure. He was glad to have Gotur at his side, considering him to be much more skilled than himself in terms of combat.

"Are we ready for battle?" Oliktalv asked.

"Yes, but moral is low," Gotur reported. "We may be warriors, but we still remember our brothers and sisters who fell in battle. Some are been expecting a speech about the losses."

"Gotur, you of all people should know that I don't give speeches," Oliktalv replied.

"I know, but that didn't stop me from telling everyone you're giving a speech before the battle," Gotur said, laughing as Oliktalv sighed, before turning to his men.

"Attention!" Oliktalv called out, silencing the soldiers. "All of us have seen battle, and we have seen the deaths of both friends and enemy alike. We shall not forget our brothers and sisters who are no longer with us, but we must remember that they were following their duty, as we must. Do you think the fallen would want us to mourn? They are in the past, but we shall now completely forget about them. With each demon we cut down, we do so out of memory of those who are not with us anymore. Today, we will not only fight for the Horde, but for those we have lost on this world."

Oliktalv turned away from the soldiers, who burst out into cheers after the speech. He briefly saw Gotur smile in approval. Looking towards the Legion Front, he noticed the demons were preparing to defend themselves, having seen the orcs now. Some of the lesser demons were already charging ahead. Oliktalv grunted to himself, hating how the Burning Legion was able to prepare during the speech Gotur insisted on. Still, they now have the demon's attention. Now they needed to make sure Dal'bin has the time he needs to find out where the portals are. He pulled out one of his swords with his left hand, and pointed it at the demon forces.

"Lok'tar ogar!" Oliktalv shouted as he charged forward.

"Lok'tar ogar!" Gotur called out as he followed Oliktalv.

"Lok'tar ogar!" the orcish soldiers shouted as they charged into battle.

The few demons charging were overwhelmed by the wave of orcs. Oliktalv took step to the left to avoid the blade of a felguard, and swung his sword at its left leg. The demon fell onto its right knee, and tried to use its polearm to support itself now that its left leg was gone. With another swing of his blade, the demon collapsed to the ground, its head rolling away. An imp ran past Oliktalv, but before he could chase after it, Gotur bumped into him, almost knocking down both of them. Gotur continued to chase the imp, nothing standing in his way. As he caught up to the imp, he swung his ax down on it. What was left of the demon was a stain of blood on both the ground and Gotur's ax.

Oliktalv continued the charge, the rest of his soldiers now catching up. The demons that tried to charge the enemy were unorganized and rash. However, they were now charging directly into an army of demons. Even though there were no orcish casualties yet, the Burning Legion outnumbered the Horde. Oliktalv pulled out a second sword as he ran towards the demons. They may be outnumbered, but that would not stop them from fighting.

Gotur was the first to charge into the first wave of demons, and with one swing of his ax, struck down two felguards at once. A shivarra interrupted his charge, swinging two daggers at him. As he blocked them, Oliktalv dashed forward, and with a swing from both of his blades, ended the demon's life with two slashes to the chest. Oliktalv did not stop, still charging into more demons. He slashed one of his blades forward at a felhound as it leaped at him, cutting it in half. With his other blade, he blocked an attack from a terrorguard before swinging towards its head, decapitating it.

As he locked blades with another felguard, he took a quick look around the battlefield. Orcs fought demons, with corpses from both sides scattered across the ground. He hated to admit it, but the Horde was taking heavy casualties. Looking ahead, he saw a natherzim that was not battling, but was overlooking the battle. Oliktalv figured that it was the commander of the demons. He realized that if they could eliminate that demon, then the next attack may be easier with the demons having an unorganized defense. The natherzim pointed towards a large group of orcs fighting demons, and from the sky, he saw green balls of fire falling straight into the battlefield.

"Get out of the way!" Oliktalv shouted, quickly decapitating the felguard he was fighting as he turned to face the soldiers.

By the time the soldiers noticed the attack from above, it was too late. There was a large explosion as it crashed directly into the group, followed by more explosions as more artillery rained down from above. The explosion killed both orcs and demons as Oliktalv looked on in horror. Dal'bin reported that the Burning Legion have cannons to use. He believed that the demons would not use them without risking hitting themselves with it. Now, it was clear that it did not matter who was caught in the crossfire.

Oliktalv held back a scream of pain as he felt the sharp edge of a blade slash across his upper back. As he fell, he cursed himself mentally as he dropped his swords. He was too distracted with the massacre before him to notice the demon attacking him from behind. Yet, as the sound of a horn is sounded from afar, he grinned. He turned his head to the side, looking at his killer with one eye as he tried raising himself from the ground. The felguard raised its blade above his neck for a decapitation. He knew that with the retreat sounded for this battle, no one would dare come back for him. All would run except for one orc.

"Lok'tar ogar!" Gotur shouted as he charged forward.

The felguard turned its head to the voice, and swung its sword to block the ax. However, the demon's blade did not hold against Gotur's attack, and was shattered into pieces. The ax buried itself into its chest, ending the demon's life. As the demon fell backwards, Gotur pulled his weapon out, and knelt besides Oliktalv. He said something, but a nearby explosion drowned out his words. Gotur grabbed the discarded swords, and threw the commander over his back before running. Oliktalv was given a full view of the massacre they were leaving behind. The corpses of his soldiers scattered the battlefield, and the demons cut down any too slow or too wounded to run. He closed his eyes, but the memories of his fallen soldiers were fresh in his mind. While they may of succeeded with the distraction, this was no victory. He was glad to fall unconscious, not wanting to think about the horrors he witnessed in this battle.

* * *

 **Author Notes: Well, it's been about a week, so here is another update for the story, where we finally get some combat.**

 **As I mentioned before, one of my favorite things to write about is action scenes mainly revolve around fighting. I'm more use to one on one combat, like duels. One of my main weaknesses with writing combat scenes would be group against group fights. I would describe this chapter more of a individual against group fight, with the fighting mainly focused on Oliktalv and Gotur. I do plan on introducing more characters as the later progresses (I got bored one day, and made about over a hundred characters set in Warcraft). When we get to that, we'll be seeing more of group versus group.**

 **Again, I highly encourage you to keep on reading, and post a review. Until next time.**


	3. Thinking Outside of the Box

Oliktalv groaned in pain as he opened his eyes. To his surprise, he was back in his quarters in Thrallmar, which was dark with only a single torch lighting the room. He was on his chest, resting on his cot. He raised up an arm and ran his hand across his back. He was now shirtless, and at first, felt his own rough skin. Then, he felt the cloth covering his wound. While the wound was still painful, it did not hurt as much as it did before. He sighed in relief, glad to be safe.

He slowly sat up on his cot, groaning in pain again. His quarters were mostly the same way he left it this morning. He did not needed much, only having a cot, a table and two stools. Usually, the table was covered in maps and reports. It still was except there was now two plates too. One of the plates carried a cooked boar leg while there was bones on the second plate. He nearly jumped up, realizing that Dal'bin was sitting on one of the stools, the darkness covering him.

"Dal'bin, how long have you been sitting there?" Oliktalv asked, getting over his initial surprise.

"A few hours," Dal'bin replied. "After I finished healin', Gotur ordered me to stay here until ya were awake."

"You were injured?" Oliktalv asked, feeling the bandages on his back with his hand again.

"Don't worry, mon. All of my wounds have been care of. I have regeneration, ya know," Dal'bin explained as he stands up. "Ya should eat before ya go back ta sleep."

"I'm not going to sleep yet," Oliktalv grunted. "Light the other torches, and grab Gotur. We need to talk about our next strategy."

"Gotur be asleep mon," Dal'bin informed him as he grabbed a torch, lighting up the other torches and the room.

"I don't care," Oliktalv said, groaning as he got up and sat down on a stool. "Wake him up now. That's an order."

Dal'bin nodded, and after returning the first torch, left the room. Oliktalv grabbed the meat on the plate, and took a huge bite from it. It was dry and cold, but he was too hungry to care. As he took another bite, he saw that his chest armor was tucked away in a corner with his swords sheathed on top. Oliktalv walked over to the corner, moving his swords out of the way before pulling on his leather armor. He felt the back of it, finding out that the cut was stitched closed. He turned his head to the door as he heard heavy stomping. Gotur, now wearing simple clothes, looked furiously at Oliktalv as he approached closer.

"There better be a damn good reason why you woke me up," Gotur said. "You need the rest more than I do."

"I cannot rest right now," Oliktalv replied. "I want your help to plan out our next battle against the Burning Legion."

Gotur grunted, but did not protest. Both of the orcs took a seat as Dal'bin walked in, carrying a rolled up parchment. He handed it to the commander, remaining standing as he unrolls the parchment. Drawn on it was a map of Hellfire Peninsula with landmarks and bases of each faction marked around it. As the head scout, Dal'bin is in charge of creating the map. As Oliktalv looked at it, he focused on the Legion Front. To his surprise, there was only one green mark that was not there before. It had to be small, which meant that the Burning Legion probably had more portals somewhere.

"A lot of good warriors died for this," Gotur said, noticing Oliktalv's reaction. "Do you think it was worth it?"

"No," Oliktalv stated, closing his eyes as he shook his head. "Still, it is more information than we had before."

"I tried ta find more, but da demons started ta come after me," Dal'bin explained.

"You should of stayed and fought the demons," Gotur told the scout. "Maybe then, we would have more portals,"

"If he fought, our army would of been wiped out," Oliktalv said, opening his eyes. "How many warriors do we have for battle?"

"I estimate around eighty. That's not enough to attack the Legion Front," Gotur reported.

"Da elves and Forsaken will be here soon, but after dat stunt we pulled, da Burnin' Legion will be prepared for another assault, mon," Dal'bin added.

"So, we'll need more reinforcements," Oliktalv announced as he looked at the map, deep in thought.

"It'll take too long for Nazgrel to order more reinforcements," Gotur claimed. "We should try asking the defenders at the Dark Portal. They are the main force fighting the Burning Legion."

"Dey won't help. Dey be too busy fightin' da demons," Dal'bin countered, "Dey be too focused on defendin' be needin' ta be patient. Da Horde will send more reinforcements."

Oliktalv blocked out the argument the two started. As a commander, he did not like when there was debate over strategy. It was up to him to make the final decision on how to proceed. He continued staring at the map, trying to think of who to turned to. He ruled out both Thrallmar and the Dark Portal for the reasons Gotur and Dal'bin stated. From there, it was just a bunch of black marks representing either the Fel Horde or the Burning Legion. Still, there was one mark that was not with those factions or the Horde. They could help, but he was not so sure if they will or if the Horde will want their help.

"We'll get help here," Oliktalv interrupted, pointing his finger at a blue mark south of Thrallmar.

"Ya do realize dat ya be askin' da Alliance ta fight with us?" Dal'bin asked, surprised by the idea.

"Perhaps your injuries are not just physical," Gotur claimed with a hint of anger in his voice. "Until your mind recovers, I'll take command."

"Gotur, we cannot defeat the Burning Legion alone," Oliktalv stated calmly. "Nazgrel gave us our orders and since we lack the men to follow them we must think outside of the box."

"Nazgrel wouldn't approve of this!" Gotur shouted as he slammed a fist in the table, now standing up. "You may be my friend, but I will not hesitate to tell of your plan, and once I do, you will not be in any battle! Now, get some rest. You're clearly in need of it."

"I may rest, but my mind will not change," Oliktalv replied, standing up and making eye contact with Gotur. "Go ahead and report me, but allow me to tell you what will happen. I will send a letter back to Orgrimmar. There, the Warchief himself will learn of my plan and situation. We both know he will approve of it, but it will take time for that, and in that time, you will lead your warriors to their death. All of that can be avoided if you stand down."

Oliktalv knew better than to counter Gotur's anger with his own. It would just be a fight that no one would win. It was better to confront him with logic of his side. Gotur was a great warrior, but he lacked the intellect to lead. His strategy involved charging into battle recklessly and kill everyone. That was the type of plan that leads to heavy casualties and defeat.

Gotur locked eyes with Oliktalv, glaring at him while he tried to think of something else to say. He closed his eyes, sighing as he sat back down on the stool upon realizing the commander was correct. Gotur was always quick to anger, but he also was easy to calm down. He opened his eyes, staring at the map, most likely trying to think up of another argument.

"Suppose we do go with your plan," Gotur started. "How do you propose we ask them? As soon as you are in sight of Honor Hold, the humans will strike you down before you can speak."

Oliktalv knew that Gotur was correct, but that would not stop him. Normally, he could defend himself while disarming the humans. Yet he knew that with the wound on his back, he could not fight as well as before. He sat down on his stool, coming to the realization that traveling to Honor Hold will lead to disaster. The humans would not dare walk near Thrallmar for the same reasons. They could try arranging a meeting at a third location not controlled by either faction, but the Alliance could deny in fear of an ambush or even set their own ambush. Still, that was the best plan they have for now. They just needed to invite one of the Alliance's commanders to the meeting and find a place to meet at.

"Dal'bin," Oliktalv said, turning his head to the scout. "Do you know of a place not in Alliance or Horde territory and where no ambush can be set?"

"Yeah mon," Dal'bin replied as he pointed at a gray mark on the map directly west of Hellfire Citadel. "Dis be an old stadium. It be deep into Fel Horde territory, so any large army will be attacked on da way dere. Yet, a small group can sneak dere with no problem."

"That solves that problem," Oliktalv said. "Now, how do we arrange this meeting?"

"Gotur be right about not walkin' up ta dem. It be too dangerous," Dal'bin told them.

"Yes, but there are other ways to contact the Alliance," Oliktalv replied. "Gotur, you have been studying the movement of any Alliance forces. Where have they been attacking?"

"Mainly at the Fel Horde," Gotur reported. "Only one battalion is battling the Burning Legion. To be exact, they've been attacking the forge camps north of Thrallmar. The only reason we're letting them so close to our territory is that they're removing a thorn from our side."

"Then that's who we talk to. Dal'bin, can you arrange a meeting between myself and the commander of the Alliance at the stadium you spoke of?"

"I be makin' no promises, but if ya give da order, I'll try," Dal'bin answered.

"Then get to it," Oliktalv ordered.

Dal'bin nodded and walked out of the room. Gotur continued staring at the map, the room now silent asides from the flickering of the fire of the torches. It was clear that he was conflicted with this choice. Oliktalv was not surprised. They were both held in the same internment camp, and while he gave up trying to escape after a few months, Gotur never gave up. Yet, all of his attempts at escape ended with failure. After each attempt, the humans would always try to break his rebellious spirit, but they never succeeded. It would only take death itself to stop Gotur.

"Our reinforcements will be here soon," Oliktalv commented.

"In a few hours," Gotur added.

"Wake me up when they're here. I want to inform the officers of my plan," Oliktalv told him. "You're dismissed."

Gotur grunted as he stood up and walked out of the room. Oliktalv looked down at the map, thinking about the Legion Front. The demons would never see this plan coming. Yet, it was not the battle that would be hard, but getting both the Alliance and Horde together was the challenge. Oliktalv was not too fond of the plan, remembering the harsh treatment he faced in his time at the internment camp. However, with his last defeat still fresh in his mind, he was willing to do whatever it takes to defeat the Burning Legion.

As he thought about the battle, he felt the pain of his wound again. Oliktalv grimaced, pushing the thoughts aside. He figured that the wound was going to scar, but he did not care. It would serve as a reminder for the lives lost on the battlefield. He stood up, and walked over to his cot. He felt exhausted after the battle and planning today. Even with the pain, it was easy to fall asleep as he collapsed on the cot.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, it's a bit early, but here's the next chapter.**

 **There's not a whole lot to say right now, but with Spring Break coming up, that'll give me more time to write. So, good news for the fans of this story. I hope that you continue reading this story, and if you want to, please write up a review.**

 **Until next time.**


	4. The Elven Commanders

"Wake up," Gotur called out from outside Oliktalv's quarters, slamming his fist onto the wooden door.

Oliktalv opened his eyes and stood up. He still felt pain on his injured back, but it was not as bad as it was last night. The fire on the torches were now dead and someone must of cleaned up his table since the plates and map gone. He went back to the corner where his swords were. He sheathed the blades on his belt and walked to the door. He opened it, looking at Gotur. They both nodded silently to each other, and started to walk.

Not a single word was said as they left the barracks. Tension was still high between the two orcs. Knowing Gotur, Oliktalv knew it was only a matter of time until his rage was unleashed. He could only hope that when that time comes, he will focus his rage on the demons. If he is enraged, Gotur becomes unstoppable. Oliktalv was almost certain that if the felguard killed him, then Gotur would be killed as well after slaying numerous demons. Right now, it would be best not to mention the fight and hope things clear up by then.

They walked through the gates to find a camp being prepared outside of the wood walls of Thrallmar. The camp was divided into half, with one side belonging to elves while the other belonged to the dead. Smelling the horrific smell of rotten flesh, Oliktalv realized it was no surprise that they were separated. He puts his hand over his nose, coughing. Gotur, not phased in the slightest by the smell, grinned at his friend.

"Looks like someone can't handle the smell of death. Good thing you didn't fall in battle." Gotur joked.

"When death comes for me, I shall not run. Instead, I'll keep fighting until my final breath," Oliktalv declared before both orcs burst into laughter. "Now, where are the commanders of the reinforcements?"

"Walking to us right now," Gotur answered, pointing forward.

Oliktalv looked at the two approaching the elves. The one in front stood tall and wore crimson red armor. He wore no helmet, showing golden blonde hair that was spiked back. Holstered behind him was a unique looking spear with two prongs extending at the side of the center tip. Although it resembled a trident, the middle tip extended slightly forward compared to the side prongs. He continued walking confidently towards the orcs, smiling as he looked at them with his emerald green eyes.

A female elf walked behind him, and at first, Oliktalv thought her to be one of the blood elves. Most of her features were hidden by a black hood, yet her elven ears poked out and locks of ebon black hair fell through. Unlike the other elf, she wore dark, leather armor with no weapons seen on her. He Assumed that she wa some sort of huntress or assassin. As she pulled her hood down, Oliktalv realized his mistake about her identity. Her skin was pale, and her eyes glowed dark red. She was with the Forsaken but compared to the other soldiers, she was not as decayed as those under her command.

"Greetings!" The male elf called out as he walked in front of Oliktalv. "You must be the commander, correct?"

"That's me," Oliktalv confirmed, crossing his arms. "I am Oliktalv Warfury,"

"Salin Sunwrath, Blood Knight and commander of the reinforcements from Silvermoon City, at your service," Salin introduced, bowing.

"Blood Knight?" Oliktalv asked, confused.

"You just had to ask," Gotur muttered, which did not help with his friend's confusion.

"Ah yes, as an outsider, you have not heard of us yet," Salin started. "We are the defenders of Quel'thalas, champi-"

"He's a paladin," the female elf interrupted quickly. "Salin, we have no time for your theatrics."

"She's right," Gotur agreed, "Had I listen through that speech again, I might of pull my own ears off."

"Belara, may I remind you that I act the same as I have since we first met," Salin said, slightly offended as he ignored the orcs.

"It was annoying then and it's annoying now," Belara countered, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, I find it a surprise that you're in a position of command."

"That's because the old commander was killed in battle against the Scourge," Salin reminded her. "Surely you remember."

"Yes, Salin, I remember the day I was killed. I don't need you to remind me every other day," Belara said with a sigh, and then looked at Oliktalv. "It would be best for you to ignore half of what he says."

"Easier said than done," Oliktalv chuckled.

"It is," Belara agreed, laughing as well. "Ever since he found out I was raised as one of the undead, he keeps speaking of my death. I would understand it at first, but it's getting both dull and bothersome now."

"Well, it's still quite a shock," Salin commented. "I always thought you to be among the undead, but as a ghoul or maybe part of an abomination, but as a dark ranger, that is a surprise."

"That's enough for now," Oliktalv interrupted before another argument broke out. "We have business to get to. Our target is the Legion Front."

"Which is now heavily reinforced," Gotur pointed out.

"Of course," Oliktalv said with a frown. "As it stands, the Burning Legion outnumbers us."

"Well, what plan do you have for taking securing victory?" Salin asked.

"Our head scout knows the location of one of the portals which brings in reinforcements," Oliktalv started. "We take down the portals first, then wipe out the demons."

"One portal?" Belara asked. "Surely, your head scout would find more. Perhaps I should have a word with him?"

"You cannot," Oliktalv replied. "He's away to set up a meeting with the Alliance."

Surprisingly, his plan was not received well. Belara glared at Oliktalv, crossing her arms. Salin took a step back in surprise, but quickly regained his composure, frowning. Gotur grinned, clearly leaving it to the commander to handle this situation himself. Oliktalv let out a sigh, wondering that out of the two people to oppose his plan, it had to be the ones who once fought alongside the Alliance. While he was glad to know who their loyalty belonged to, it was still a shock and changed his plans.

"Not happening," Belara said quickly. "We're not working with the Alliance."

"We are if the opportunity presents himself, and that's final," Oliktalv stated.

"They would sooner cut us down than to work with us," Belara argued.

"Times may have changed since then, and given the demon's numbers, we cannot do this alone," Oliktalv informed her.

"He's right," Salin agreed, his frown turning to a smile. "I may not be too fond of the plan, but we both know well that strategy means nothing when the enemy greatly outnumbers us. I'll support your plan simply because there is no other option."

"Well, I won't," Belara said. "That's final. You would do best to think of a new plan."

"So, you are willing to go against my orders then?" Oliktalv asked.

"Correct," Belara answered. "Perhaps I shall have a word with the orc running Thrallmar to tell him of your plan. Nazgrel is his name, yes?"

"It is," Oliktalv replied. "You can go see him once you're done taking orders from Gotur."

"Unlike the commander, I won't take any backtalk," Gotur said with the grin. "One word of disagreement, and you'll come to regret it,"

"Go ahead and try," Belara challenged. "I think I can handle a brute with no brain."

"Now you're asking for it!" Gotur grunted loudly as he unholstered his ax.

"This should be easy," Belara commented to herself as Oliktalv noticed the dagger in her hands.

"Both of you, stand down now!" Oliktalv ordered, staring down the two.

"I'd hate to interrupt such a lovely conversation, but I believe we have company," Salin interrupted.

Sure enough, Oliktalv turned his head, and smiled. Dal'bin was now walking to the group, not appearing to be injured. Hopefully, it meant that he was successful with his mission and the Alliance was willing to make an arrangement. The scout walked up to the commander, giving a quick salute to him, before turning his attention to the other commanders. He focused on Gotur and Belara, seeing their weapons out. As the troll stared at them, Gotur lowered his ax and Belara hid her dagger in her sleeve. Dal'bin then turned back to Oliktalv.

"Commander," Dal'bin greeted.

"Welcome back," Oliktalv said. "This is Dal'bin, my head scout. Dal'bin, with us now is the commanders of the Forsaken and blood elves."

"Salin Sunwrath," Salin introduced, and opened his mouth to continue his introduction before being interrupted.

"So, this is the head scout who only found one portal? How amazing," Belara said sarcastically.

"Not another word out of you," Oliktalv ordered, with Belara sighing but nodding in acknowledgement. "Dal'bin, what news do you bring to us now?"

"Da Alliance be willin' ta meet with us," Dal'bin reported. "Dey will wait for us at da stadium I spoke of."

"They're going to wait for us?" Oliktalv asked.

"I saw four walkin' in dat direction as soon as I left, mon," Dal'bin replied. "Dey want da Burnin' Legion gone as much as we do,"

"Very well, we shall leave at once," Oliktalv announced before unsheathing his two swords. "Gotur, take my blades back to my quarters. I wish for these talks to be as peaceful as can be."

"Would I be wasting time trying to talk you otherwise?" Gotur asked, not waiting to grab the swords.

"You would," Oliktalv replied with a grin. "Worry not, old friend. Dal'bin will watch over us with his rifle."

"Us?" Belara asked, grinning. "Well, it looks like you won't have someone to look after me now,"

"I still will," Oliktalv countered, turning to Salin. "Are you willing to accompany me to speak with the Alliance?"

"It would be my honor to join you," Salin answered, bowing once more.

"Good. Just hand your spear to Gotur, and we shall start our journey," Oliktalv ordered before turning to Gotur. "Now, Gotur, you sh-"

"Ranseur," Salin interrupted, unholstering his spear.

"Excuse me?" Oliktalv asked, confused.

"I wield a ranseur, not a spear," Salin corrected, motioning to his weapon. "As you can see, there are two prongs, yet they are not straight as a trident. They are used to dis-"

"Just give your weapon to Gotur," Oliktalv grunted in frustration. "Gotur, put the weapons somewhere safe, and return here. Belara, you are also to stay here, and as long as I am away, you are to obey any orders from Gotur."

Salin sighed, before handing his ranseur to Gotur, who was grinning. Belara frowned, and walked away, heading towards the Forsaken camp. Gotur looked at her as she walked away, making sure she was not trying anything, and then headed back into Thrallmar, carrying the weapons. Oliktalv turned around, and walked west, heading to the stadium. Without hesitating, Dal'bin followed the commander, pulling out his rifle. Salin opened his mouth, most likely to say something, but sighed instead. He then proceeded to follow the two as well.

There was a lot on Oliktalv's mind after the events that took place. With the reinforcements now here, there were two others in his inner circle who knew of his plan. Salin seemed loyal enough to stick with the plan, but his carefree personality bothered Oliktalv. Hopefully, the elf can make up for it in battle. As for Belara, he knew that she would oppose it with every step it takes. Still, he knew that she would not go too far to make sure it never happened. Out of the two commanders, she was the smarter of the two, and if Salin knew that this was the only way to secure victory, then she must know as well. However, he was going to keep an eye on her. Still, it would not matter what his soldiers thought of the plan if the Alliance did not support it.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, here's chapter 4 of Broken World.**

 **As I found out the hard way, I couldn't get a lot of connection when I was on vacation during Spring Break, so I couldn't work on this while I was away. So, that kind of puts me behind schedule now, so eventually, I'm going to have to try to pick up the pace a little bit. Anyways, continue reading on, and leave a review if you want.**

 **Until next time.**


	5. The Plan

"This is it?" Oliktalv asked.

Up ahead, the trio saw the ruins Dal'bin spoke of. It was circular in design with dark stone making up the building. The edges of the walls were raised for spectators to watch battles from. Part of the wall was gone, probably destroyed in a battle long ago or perhaps just a victim of time. There were flagpoles on what remained of the stadium, but they did not fly any flag.. Clearly, no one thought of claiming the old stadium on behalf of their faction and rebuilding it for either war or entertainment.

It took the group several hours to make it here. They traveled in complete silence asides from Salin constantly complaining about having to walk all the way from Thrallmar. Still, had they traveled by wolf or wyvern, the fel orcs could of spot them. Oliktalv knew that eventually, they may face the Fel Horde in battle, but that is a battle for another time. Right now, he needed to focus on the Burning Legion, and he could not afford to be late for an important meeting that could determine the success of the next battle.

"Dis be it," Dal'bin confirmed. "Dey probably be waitin' right now, mon."

"Well, we shouldn't keep them waiting," Salin said, walking towards the stadium.

"Not yet," Oliktalv ordered as Salin turned around. "Dal'bin will go first and take up position on the wall. You are only to attack as a last resort. Understood?"

"Ya got it, mon," Dal'bin replied.

The troll started to run towards the stadium, leaving the commanders behind. They stood in silence, watching Dal'bin from afar. He reached the wall, and started to climb up. It was easy for the scout, and he makes it over the top. He did not stand up as he made it to the top, rather crawling so the others could not see him now. Oliktalv trusted Dal'bin not to be seen, but decided to give him a few more minutes before they continued.

"So, I suppose we shall be fashionably late," Salin joked, but Oliktalv could tell that he was growing impatient from the tone of his voice.

"Now," Oliktalv said as he walked pass the blood elf, heading towards an old tunnel that led into the stadium.

As the two entered the tunnel leading into the stadium, Oliktalv heard metal clashing against metal. He instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword before remembering that he left them behind at Thrallmar. For a moment, he thought that the Fel Horde was attacking, but pushed the thought away. If the fel orcs were attacking, he would of heard gunshots as well. Then again, he did not ordered Dal'bin to protect them, and he was not known for doing something unless ordered to. For now, he just assumed that there was a spar happening. It would make some sense since this was a stadium.

As they entered the stadium, Oliktalv sighed in relief, seeing two humans fighting each other. He watched the duel, not being seen yet by the combatants. The human with the clear upper hand over his opponent fought with an offensive stance. His long red hair, slowly graying with age, was pulled back in a ponytail. His sword and armor were in excellent condition and even though he was making a lot of mistakes that would cost him the duel, Oliktalv knew he was a skilled warrior. He was going easy on his inexperienced opponent.

The second human was using a defensive stance, although he wondered if that style of combat was forced from his opponent.. He was much younger than his opponent with short blonde hair. His armor and sword were in poor condition as he noticed the rust on the silver metal. As Oliktalv thought about the poor maintenance, he realized that he lacked the strength to wield a large sword effectively while wearing heavy armor.

"Come on, Balthar!" the experienced warrior shouted. "Stop defending yourself and fight! Remember what I taught you!"

As his mentor suggested, Balthar tried to charge, breaking his stance. Oliktalv shook his head, knowing that only a foolish warrior would break stance and charge recklessly. He raised his sword up with great effort before bringing his blade down. The experienced warrior blocked the blade with ease and rammed his shoulder into his student. Balthar fell onto his back, dropping his sword. He groaned, trying to get back up, but his heavy armor held him down. His opponent planted his boot on his chest to pin him down and pointed his sword at his student's neck.

"I taught you to do better," the victorious warrior said in disappointment, stepping off his student and walked away. "I managed to best my trainer long before I was your age. So, even when I go easy on you, how come you haven't bested me in combat,"

"I'm sorry," Balthar whispered quietly to himself as he tried to stand up. "I was just distracted. I tried to tell you there were others watching us, but you couldn't give me the chance."

"Ah, so they're here now," the man said to himself, now noticing Oliktalv and Salin, eyeing them before facing Oliktalv. "So, you come to us unarmed. You're not like any orc I've ever faced before."

"I do not wish for violence," Oliktalv replied calmly.

"An orc not trying to kill me where I stand," he muttered to himself. "It sounds too good to be true."

"It is too good to be true, Gregory," squeaked a light voice from behind.

As Gregory moved out of the way, Oliktalv did not see who had just spoke at first. Then he looked down upon the gnome. He was short, but still held himself up highly with confidence and his eyes show determination. The top of his head was mostly bald, but that still did not stop him from combing the side of his hair over the large bald spot. Unlike his companions, he did not wear any metal armor. In fact, Oliktalv was not sure it was armor at all. He wore a dark blue jacket which covered about his whole body which was unbuttoned to reveal the white shirt and pants underneath. Adorned on the jacket were various medals of service showing his experience in the military. That along with the two short swords and flintlock pistol holstered on his belt showed that while he was a more ceremonial officer, he knew how to fend for himself despite his size.

"You're perhaps too short to realize, but we're unarmed," Salin said more jokingly than serious. "If anything, we should be worried about you and your friends."

"Yes, you're unarmed because you brought at least one soldier to aid you," the gnome started. "I'm not sure where the third of your company is, but this unidentified subject is likely watching over us with either a bow or a rifle. Should violence break out, this assailant would try to pick us off one by one."

"How did he know about that?" Salin whispered to Oliktalv, leaning towards the orc.

"I'm not sure," Oliktalv replied in a hushed tone. "When we walked in, I did not see Dal'bin anywhere, so he's hiding."

"That's a bold claim, Kelvin," Gregory told the gnome. "Are you certain that there is more?"

"Yes, I am certain," Kelvin answered. "No one would even consider the thought of speaking to a potential enemy at such an isolated location. I advise we take action."

"Agreed," Gregory said, pointing his sword at Oliktalv. "Kelvin, deal with the intruder in the stands. Balthar, join me in this glorious battle!"

"I can't," Balthar admitted, having given up trying to get up from the ground.

"This is the reason why we brought someone to watch our backs," Salin sighed. "Why did you have us leave behind our weapons?"

"We are not here to fight," Oliktalv said to Gregory rather than Salin. "It is true we brought someone to look after us, but if we wanted you dead, I would of killed you with my own blades than by ordering someone to kill you. If you want, I shall have him stand down so we can move on and reach an agreement on what we should do with the true enemy, the Burning Legion."

"I believe him," a new voice called from behind. "Now, if you would just calm yourself, Gregory. There is much to talk about with our new friends."

Oliktalv turned his head to face the stranger. Leaning against the wall was a being unlike anything he has seen before. He stood taller than everyone in the stadium, wearing silver armor that covered everything except his face and feet, which resembled hooves. His skin was an azure blue, and his purple eyes showed kindness, wisdom and experience. His silver hair was long, reaching the back of his shoulders. Strangely enough, two long tendrils extended from his chin, reaching to his upper chest and a tail extended from behind him. As far as Oliktalv knew, no one like this existed on Azeroth. The stranger walked past him and Salin, and helped the neglected Balthar off from the ground.

"Thank you," Balthar whispered.

"It is no problem, Balthar," the stranger said, turning to Oliktalv. "I see you are curious about who I am, or is it what I am?"

"Forgive me," Oliktalv said slowly, coming back to his senses.

"Worry not, friend. I was talking about your friend," he corrected, motioning to Salin, who made no attempt to hide his staring.

"Snap out of it, Salin," Oliktalv ordered, slapping his hand on the back of his shoulders, almost knocking the blood elf down.

"Was that really necessary?" Salin asked, composing himself. "I mean, he is something both of us have never encountered before. What's wrong with being curious?"

"You were being disrespectful," Oliktalv answered bluntly

"Peace, friend," the stranger suggested, walking up to the group. "I am Naur, one of the draenei. My people once called Draenor home, as did yours."

"Yes, until the orcs launched a war of genocide" Gregory reminded Naur, sheathing his sword.

"That was a long time ago," Naur said, closing his eyes as the memories started to flood in. "Our friend here is far too young to have been from that time. What is your name?"

"My name is Oliktalv Warfury," Oliktalv introduced, and seeing Salin about to speak, quickly interrupted him. "This is Salin. He is one of the commanders that serves under me."

"My name is Gregory Kell." Gregory replied, extending his hand to the orc. "Naur has already introduced himself, and our short friend here is Kelvin Gearwork. He serves as our tactician. Finally, this is Balthar Collas. I've taken him under my wing to be trained as a warrior per his father's request."

"It is good to meet you and your companions, Gregory," Olikalv said, gripping the human's hand firmly, shaking his hand.

"So, we're not going to do anything about the assassin?" Kelvin asked, frustrated.

"Do not worry," Salin told him, grinning. "With your shining, bald head, you are probably blinding our poor scout as we speak."

"Care to say that again?" Kelvin challenged, gripping his gun as he prepared to raise it.

"Kelvin, if you're getting anything out, let it be that map of yours," Naur said calmly.

With a sigh, Kelvin released his grip on his gun. He reached inside of his jacket, pulling out a piece of parchment folded up. With a nod from Gregory, Balthar took it and unfolded it, holding the map up for everyone to see. It was similar to Dal'bin's own map, with just about most of the same markings. However, whoever drew this map also wrote notes next to the marks in a language Oliktalv did not know. Additionally, eloquent pictures were drawn, although he was not sure if they were done for notes about the places, design purposes or simply out of boredom. Looking at the Legion Front on the map, he noticed that it was marked four times.

"So, there's only four portals," Oliktalv muttered under his breath.

"Yes. We have a talented scout who was able to find this out," Kelvin confirmed. "Surely, your scout must be that talented as well."

"A better scout than Dal'bin," Salin said to himself, then whispered to Oliktalv. "Good thing he cannot hear us from this distance, or else we may be short one person, pun intended."

"So, if you have all four locations, why haven't you taken them out yet?" Oliktalv asked, ignoring Salin.

"We lack the numbers to do so," Kelvin explained. "The Burning Legion outnumbers us, and even if we destroy the portals, we will still have to take care of the demons."

"Yes, but Kelvin refuses to take into account the spirit of our warriors," Gregory said with pride.

"Believe me, spirit means nothing when your opponent outnumbers you," Oliktalv countered, crossing his arms. "My warriors all had spirit, and most of them are now gone after distracting the demons."

"I'm truly sorry for your loss, my friend," Naur said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Tell me, how did they fall?"

"The Burning Legion unleashed their cannons on my men," Oliktalv said, looking down at the ground. "I knew of them before the assault, but I foolishly thought they wouldn't risk firing upon their own I am responsible for the death of my men."

"No, you are not," Naur replied. "It is the Legion who took the lives of your brave warriors. We must learn from our past. Are the survivors of this assault willing to take out the cannons?"

Oliktalv thought about it for a moment. He wanted to avenge his fallen warriors and strike down the dreadlord commander. Yet, he knew deep down that was not an option. If he went down this path of revenge, the rest of the men under his command would die. Maybe this time he would move a close friend. Gotur and Dal'bin would follow him no matter what, even if it led to death. Oliktalv knew he could not live with the thought of either of them were killed following him on this path of vengeance.

"Leave the cannons to me," Oliktalv declared.

"Even with the cannons destroyed, it will still be a bloodbath," Kelvin reminded. "I've thought about different scenarios in my head, and so far, all result in defeat. The demons will just bring reinforcements from their portals."

"Then we deal with the portals before we attack," Gregory reasoned. "Kelvin has created some explosives for such a job."

"Well, that's easy enough. We just get that scout that found the portals in the first place to blow them up," Salin added.

"Unfortunately, no matter how many times I instruct her, Finnal cannot arm the explosives," Kelvin informed the group. "However, she can lead someone else to set the explosives."

"Well, if Dal'bin is a good shot with that rifle of his, surely he can hit a few buttons to create a huge explosion," Salin suggested.

"That would be possible," Oliktalv agreed. "The only problem I see is the demons discovering our scouts before they finish the job."

"That'll be a problem," Kelvin confirmed. "There's nothing to do about it."

"Excuse me," Balthar said quietly. "I think I know how we can help."

"Silence, boy!" Gregory demanded. "You're just to hold the map and speak when spoken to."

"Speak, Balthar," Naur told him, grinning at Gregory.

"Well," Balthar started, nervously glancing at Gregory. "Why not split our army up and have part of it act as distraction.

"Brilliant idea!" Kelvin declared loudly. "So simple, yet it drastically increases our odds of success. Gregory, your student may have won the battle for us!"

"It's nothing," Balthar said, looking down with a light blush.

"His idea is out of the question," Oliktalv interrupted. "I've done the exact same thing, and failed. The men that distracts the demons will be slaughtered."

"If that is the case, I shall lead the distraction," Naur volunteered. "Out of all of us here, I have the most experience with the Burning Legion, including their tactics. My men and I will be able to hold on our own.."

Oliktalv looked at Naur with a face of shock. Why would Naur want to be the distraction when he just heard what happened last time? He did not want someone like Naur, someone who is so wise and peaceful and caring, to sacrifice himself as part of a plan. Still, he knew he could not talk him down if Naur was determined. Still, Oliktalv had to help him to ensure that his new friend would live to fight another day.

"I trust you Naur, but I will not approve of this plan under unless you agree to bring Salin and his soldiers to help you," Oliktalv stated.

"I get no say in this?" Salin asked.

"You do, but I'm still ordering you to help," Oliktalv answered.

"I will not deny your aid, friend," Naur accepted, turning to Salin. "I look forward to fighting alongside you, Salin."

"Well, it's hard to say the same when you're being sent on a suicidal battle," Salin joked before acting serious. "I pray that we both survive."

"Then it's settled," Gregory said. "Kelvin, explain the plan once more."

"With pleasure," Kelvin replied. "In three days time, we shall meet again for the battle. At the same time, Naur and Oliktalv will lead their warriors to their respective targets. While this is happening, two scouts will set the explosives and destroy the portals. Afterwards, Gregory will lead the rest of the army to wipe out the demons."

"Agreed," Oliktalv confirmed.

"Then you are free to go," Gregory said, turning to the others. "Balthar, start up a fire and pitch the tents while I talk to the others. After we rest, we return to Honor Hold!"

"We're leaving, Salin," Oliktalv declared, walking away. "We must get back to Thrallmar."

"Are you sure we cannot rest? My feet are still sore from the walk here," Salin complained as he followed Oliktalv.

The two walked out of the stadium, not turning back. Oliktalv was glad his idea was working. With the help of the Alliance, the Burning Legion will be defeated. Naur held the wisdom of an experienced warrior who has seen many battles. Kelvin had the intellect to understand which battle strategies would work and Gregory had determination to win this battle. With those three leading the Alliance forces, victory would be secured. He heard another set of footsteps from behind, but he did not turn to face them. He already knew who was following them.

"So, what be da plan?" Dal'bin asked, caught up with Oliktalv and now walked beside him.

"Rather simple actually. While you get to work with a scout better than you at destroying portals, I shall be killed by demons in battle," Salin answered.

"No one be better dan me," Dal'bin stated.

Oliktalv bursted out into laughter, Salin joining in. Dal'bin looked at them, scratching his head in confusion. This led to louder laughter from the two commanders. For the first time since stepping through the Dark Portal, Oliktalv could relax. His injury pained him no more and he was about to secure victory for the Horde. Everything was going right for once, and he hoped that remained the same after this next battle.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, here's the next chapter of Broken World.**

 **Not a lot to say other than that this is one of my longest chapters so far, just going over three thousand words. This is probably because of all of the new characters that were just introduced. I'm still pretty busy and will be until the summer, where I shall be frequently updating this story. As always, I hoped you enjoyed the story and continue to keep on reading.**

 **Until next time.**


	6. Unfit for a Blade

A day has passed since that meeting within the stadium. As Balthar thought back on it, he still was not sure what to think of it. His father fought during the Second War, and told him about the horrors and monstrosities the orcs were responsible for. He was raised to believe that they were savage beasts that need to be cut down on sight. As a child, Balthar hated thinking about this. Even now, he despised violence and would prefer peace over war. Even when his father and Gregory told him that the orcs did not know the meaning of peace, he held onto a small, dying hope.

With yesterday, that hope was brought to life once more. Oliktalv was the first orc Balthar ever met in person, and he was nothing like the orcs he heard in stories. Instead of a savage monster, he instead saw a noble warrior who was sincere and civilized. Balthar was afraid of him at first, and when he was on the ground, unable to get up, he thought that would be his final day. Yet, he survived because the Horde did not want to kill them. As far as he could tell, they were completely unarmed and he did not believe Kelvin's claim of an assassin for

Still, their mere presence was enough to spring Gregory and Kelvin into action to fight. As much as he was against this, he could understand why they would be so willing to attack an unarmed orc. Gregory fought alongside his father and Kelvin started his career as a tactician during the Second War. Had Naur not been there to calm them down, what would of been a peaceful meeting would turn into a bloodbath. Balthar desperately wanted to speak his mind, but he already knew that Gregory would silence him.

He opened his eyes, deciding not to think as he got out of his bunk in the barracks at Honor Hold. Today, they would be meeting with Commander Trollbane and convince him to make their next target the Legion Front. He heard stories of the Sons of Lothar and their sacrifice only for it to be revealed they were alive for over a decade. Although not knowing much else about them, Kelvin told everyone not to mention the union with the Horde. The tactician believed that the Commander would disapprove of the plan solely based on working with the Horde. So, they were to convince him only to make Gregory attack the Legion Front.

When they got back yesterday, Naur requested Gregory to let Balthar speak his mind about the plan as he came up with part of it to distract the demons, but he was denied. Usually, Gregory would not want his student to speak during important meetings and only watch. He tried his best to follow those instructions, but sometimes, he could not help himself, his suggestion at the stadium being a prime example.

Balthar turned toward his armor, the pieces of it scattered around his bunk. He sighed, knowing that he will need to put it on for the meeting. Truth be told, he found it to be too big and heavy to his liking. Still, Gregory insisted he wears it everyday. Maybe his mentor thought he would grow into it, but Balthar did not think it would happen. Slowly, he put on his armor, piece at a time. It was a slow process since it became more difficult with more armor on to limit his movement. After all of it was on, he looked at his sword on the ground, and decided against taking it with him. He would not need a weapon for the meeting today and walked away.

Leaving the barracks, Balthar saw Gregory and Kelvin speaking to each other outside. As usual, Gregory was in his armor, freshly polished and Kelvin's jacket was now buttoned. He could not hear what they were talking about since they were whispering. Still, Balthar did not focus on them, instead looking for Naur. Out of the three, Naur was honest about working with the Horde against the Burning Legion. Gregory made it clear that he has no love for the plan on the journey back while Kelvin only supports it for tactical reasons. As Balthar walked to them, the two commanders turned their heads to him, hearing him walking due to the large armor.

"Good morning," Gregory greeted as he observed his student, frowning. "Your sword is missing. Where is it?"

"Well, do I need a weapon for this meeting?" Balthar asked, looking down.

"Of course you do!" Gregory criticized harshly. "A warrior is nothing without his sword! If we were to be attacked right now, you would be killed without a second thought!"

"Sorry," Balthar said, gulping.

"Sorry won't save you from being killed in battle," Gregory continued. "When we're at war, that sword is your life, boy! Remember that."

"Gregory, calm down," Kelvin suggested, motioning to his belt, which did not have his swords or gun. "No one is going to attack us, so there's no need for a weapon. Instead, we should turn our attention to Naur, if he was here."

"Could he still be asleep?" Balthar asked.

"Was anyone speaking to you?" Gregory said to Balthar, ignoring his question.

"It is highly unlikely that Naur is asleep," Kelvin replied, "It could be that something is keeping him occupied. Shall we search the barracks?"

:I've never seen him in the barracks before," Gregory told the gnome.

"So, we have no clue where he is then," Kelvin stated. "We will need to find him then."

"I will not waste time going on a wild goose chase when we have business to attend to," Gregory declared, turning to Balthar. "Go. Find Naur, and tell him to drop whatever he's doing so he can come here."

"Me?" Balthar asked in surprise.

"Who else could I be talking to?" Gregory pointed out. "Kelvin and I will need to stay here just in case we must meet Commander Trollbane without Naur. Now, leave us!"

Balthar slowly nodded, and walked off, roaming around Honor Hold. He stuck to the cobble road, thinking about where Naur could of gone. He ruled out the barracks, trusting Gregory's word that he was not there. He also ruled out the tavern, not thinking of Naur to be an early drinker. Surely, he would not have left if something big was happening.

As Balthar approached the gates to leave Honor Hold when a soldier ran up to him. He looked at the man, and stared in horror as he realized his armor was covered in blood. However, he pushed the thoughts of terror aside when he realized that the man was not visibly injured. Yet, he did not believe the blood to be from a fallen enemy. The soldier's face showed both urgency and fear. Clearly, whatever was going on, he needed help.

"Come with me," the man demanded. "It's an emergency."

"Wait a moment," Balthar whispered. "What are you talking about, sir?"

"Fel orcs ambushed one of our patrols," he explained. "They've been driven off, but we have too many wounded for our few healers. We need as many volunteers as we can get to help."

"But I'm not sure how I can help," Balthar said, looking down. "I don't know how any first aid, sir."

"You'll learn," the man said, grabbing him by the wrist.

Before Balthar could speak, the soldier started to pull, dragging him away from Honor Hold. They were heading to a group of tents pitched at the bottom of the hill the hold was built on. Seeing soldiers setting up more tents, he assumed this is where all the wounded are, so it must of been bad if they could not bring them up the hill. Balthar did want to help them, but he was not sure how he could help. Gregory never taught him any basic first aid, saying that a true soldier learns to deal with the pain. Not that it did not matter, seeing how his mentor never took him to see anyone wounded. The man released his grip on Balthar as they make it to the makeshift camp, turning to him.

"Find an injured soldier and lend a hand," he said, turning away as he walked away. "There are no priests in this section of the camp, so just use common sense for treating them."

"Common sense?" Balthar whispered to himself.

He was now alone, and he did not know what to do. Gregory told him to find Naur but that would have to wait for now. Even though Balthar knew nothing about first aid, he had to stay here. He had to try to help. He was not sure how he was going to help, but this was more important than searching for Naur.

Slowly, Balthar peeked his head into the nearest tent. Inside, he saw a dwarf sitting down on a mat. He still wore his silver armor, but there was an arrow through his right leg. Past the dwarf's beard, Balthar saw him grimacing in pain. Then, he noticed that he was gripping the arrow, trying to pull it out. Balthar quickly rushed to the dwarf, kneeling down to pull his hand off the arrow.

"What are ye doin', lad?" The dwarf demanded angrily as his hand was grabbed. "I need te get this arrow out o' my leg."

"If you just pull it out, it could hurt you even more, sir," Balthar said, thinking of how to help. "Without a healer, your leg may be damaged permanently if we pull it out."

"Well lad, ye better do somethin'," the dwarf said.

"I think I have an idea," Balthar told him. "I'm going to need something sharp though."

"Ye better not be cuttin' my leg off," the dwarf threaten.

"Not the leg, but the arrow," Balthar corrected.

Slowly, the dwarf unholstered his hatchet, handing it to Balthar. He took it, and slowly started to cut off the half of the arrow that went through his leg, unable to chop it off with one slash because of the angle it was at. He knew that by pulling the arrow out as a whole could cause more damage because of the arrowhead. There was a small thud as half of the shaft fell onto the dirt ground. With that out of the way, Balthar grabbed onto the other half, and pulled it out. It was much easier now that the arrowhead was gone and it came out with ease.

Yet, as he noticed the dwarf grimacing in pain, he knew he made a mistake. Blood was now pouring out where the arrow once was. There was no need to worry about bleeding because of of the arrow shaft being stuck in the leg, but that was not the case earlier. Balthar dropped the bloody arrow shaft and placed both his hands on the entry and exit wound, putting pressure on it to prevent further bleeding. He forgot to bring something to close the wound, and in hindsight, he regretted that now.

"Keep holding the wound, friend," a voice from behind called out. "I can take matters from here."

He turned his head to his side, seeing Naur kneeling aside him. His armor was stained with blood, and Balthar realized that this was where he was all along. Slowly, Naur grabbed hold of the dwarf's hand, closing his eyes in concentration. As Balthar held down the wound, he focused on the hands, seeing a golden light appear on the draenei's hand. No one told him that that Naur knew how to call upon the Light. Just staring at the Light made him calm and more at peace. It was only after the draenei let go of the dwarf's hand and ended the magic did Balthar snap out of the trance he was in. He raised his right hand slightly, seeing that the injury was now healed. He let go of the dwarf's leg, standing up next to Naur.

"Your leg will be sore, but you'll be able to walk again by tomorrow," Naur told the dwarf. "Rest now, my friend."

"Well, I suppose I need te thank ye somehow," the dwarf replied. "Suppose we survive this, I'll buy ye a round of drinks."

"I'll be sure to remember that, friend," Naur said, chuckling as he opened the tent flap. "Come along, Balthar. There may be others who are in need of healing."

As the draenei left, Balthar stood still for a moment, in deep thought. With ease, Naur was able to heal that dwarf after that mistake. Perhaps that was a more noble goal to pursuit than fighting with a sword. He slowly walked out of the tent, looking around the camp. This section of the camp was now more active, with robed healers entering the tents now. Naur observed his surroundings, looking for an available tent as a soldier walked up to him. Balthar realized that it was the same soldier who dragged him out here to begin with.

"Sir," the soldier greeted, saluting. "The healers are patching up the last of the wounded. Thank you for lending a hand."

"At ease," Naur said, smiling. "I must leave now. I trust that everything is under control now."

"Of course, sir. You may want to wash your armor before you leave back to Honor Hold," the soldier suggested, before leaving.

"Yes, I suppose we do need to clean up," Naur agreed as he walked over to a bucket of water next to a closed tent. "It was good of you to help out here today. I did not expect for Gregory to allow you to come here."

"He wouldn't have, sir," Balthar started.

"Stop right there," Naur commanded, grabbing a wet rag from the bucket. "Please, call me Naur. There is no need for any formality, my friend."

"Very well, sir, I mean, Naur," Balthar said quickly, looking down in embarrassment.

"Relax," Naur suggested, offering the rag to him. "Clean your armor, and then continue your story. I wish to hear more of it."

Focusing on his armor, he did realize that there was blood on his armor. He must of not noticed it when helping out the dwarf. Slowly, he looked up at Naur, and accepted the rag, wiping his hands with it. He started to scrub his armor clean of blood as the draenei grabbed another rag, cleaning himself off of blood. Afterwards, they tossed the rags back into the water bucket.

"Well, Gregory told me to get you," Balthar continued. "They want to meet with Commander Trollbane, and wanted you to support the plan to attack the Legion Front."

"Well, you see now why I was late," Naur replied. "Now, allow me to ask, but do you think we did the right thing today?"

"Of course," Balthar answered without hesitation.

"And why is that?" Naur asked.

"Well," Balthar started, pausing to put some thought behind his answer. "It's just that a meeting can wait for another time. Had we not done anything today, that dwarf might not be able to walk again."

"And someone could have lost their life as well," Naur added.

"Exactly," Balthar agreed. "What we did here today was the right thing to do."

"Good," Naur said, turning towards the hill Honor Hold was on. "Come and walk with me, friend. While we did the right thing today, Gregory would disagree with us. We shouldn't keep him waiting any longer."

Without wasting a second, Naur started to walk up the hill. Balthar followed behind, trying to keep up. His armor limited his speed, so the draenei was starting to get farther away from him. Still, he took this time to think to himself about what he did today. Looking back on it, he felt good for helping out with the injured. He may not know how to heal, but he felt much better about helping out that dwarf than his months of training with a blade. Balthar knew that even with Gregory training him, he was never going to be a warrior. He would be killed on his first battle.

Yet, being a healer may be his true calling, and not just simple first aid. Balthar and his family did share a strong bond with the Light. Surely his father would approve of his son becoming a priest even if it meant giving up the blade. As Balthar came to that conclusion, he realized he had reached the gates again. Naur was waiting for him, smiling at him. He remembered how the draenei was able to heal the dwarf with the Light, and wondered if he was willing to train him to do so as well. He turned back around, walking again with Balthar following behind.

"So, how goes your training with Gregory?" Naur asked.

"Truth be told, not well," Balthar admitted. "You've seen me handle a blade, and this armor is so heavy."

"Yes, I have seen it," Naur agreed. "I do not wish to be rude, but I believe you may do best to forget about becoming a warrior. I am sure there are other things you can do."

"Well, I did have one idea on what to do," Balthar replied.

"And what is this idea of yours, my friend?" Naur asked, turning to face him.

As Balthar opened his mouth to speak, he saw someone running towards the group. He held back a sigh, realizing that it was Gregory. He wanted to tell Naur about what he wanted to do now, but he did not want to do it in front of his mentor out of fear for punishment. He knew he needed to tell him, but not before the draenei agreed to it. He would need to find another time to go with his plan.

"Balthar!" Gregory shouted, walking up to his student. "What took you so long to get Naur?"

"It was just-" Balthar tried to speak before feeling a hand placed gently on his shoulder.

"Balthar was just lending a hand with the injured, Gregory," Naur told him.

"I told him to bring you to me," Gregory said angrily. "We had to speak to Commander Trollbane without you because of my cursed student! I was so furious that I dare not speak a word during the meeting! We should be glad that Kelvin was there to tell him the facts and statistics of the plan! That's the only reason he made the Legion Front our next target!"

"He was helping because I was not going to stop healing until I knew the situation was under control, my friend," Naur said calmly. "Even if you ordered me to leave personally, I wouldn't leave."

The two started to stare at each other intensely, the tension growing. On one side, Gregory remain stubborn, wanting to punish Balthar for forgetting about his duty. On the other side, Naur was going to defend his friend at his own expense. The staredown was interrupted as Kelvin ran up to the group. His jacket was now unbuttoned and he was out of breath. Gregory must of left him behind, searching for Naur right after the meeting.

"Sir," Kelvin wheezed. "We still need to handle the logistical matters of the plan. We must brief the soldiers, inform the Horde of our plan, and build the explosives to bring down the structures surrounding the portal."

"Get to it," Gregory ordered without hesitation, frustrated. "Balthar, fetch your sword. We'll be sparring today."

"You want me to do all of it?" Kelvin asked carefully.

"I said get to it," Gregory repeated, staring down at the gnome.

Kelvin gulped, knowing better than to talk to Gregory while he was angered. He walked away from the group, heading to the barracks. Balthar realized that Gregory would punish him through training, and there was no way to talk him down. Still, just by looking at Naur, he could tell that the draenei was not done yet.

"Gregory, you must help Kelvin," Naur suggested. "Even though he is our tactician, he is just one gnome. Take a break from training Balthar so we'll be successful in battle."

"You think I am doing a bad job at training the lad?" Gregory asked, anger building in his voice.

"That isn't what this is about," Naur said, trying to change the subject.

"It became the subject when you brought up my training," Gregory corrected as he walked closer to Naur, who easily towered over the man. "My training is not the problem. The problem is Balthar. He's not fighter material. The only reason I am training him is because his father saved my life back in the Second War. Matthew told me to train him and that's what I am doing! That is the only reason I bother myself with the lad!"

"Naur, please go help Kelvin," Balthar said rather loudly. "I'll be fine."

Both Gregory and Naur turned to Balthar, surprised by his small outburst. In truth, Balthar was surprised with himself as well. He was not one for getting involved in an argument like that, but he had to do something. Kelvin was a brilliant tactician, but he could always use some help to ensure success. Gregory would be too stubborn to change his mind, but Naur should be willing to help. Balthar wanted this battle to end in victory. If that meant he would endure Gregory's harsh training, then so be it.

Slowly, Naur smiled at Balthar, gripping his shoulder. Again, he felt the same peaceful feeling from back at the tent. As the vindicator walked away, Balthar thought to himself, wondering if the peaceful feeling was just a blessing or from Naur's presence. Gregory was still in thought, staring at his student. He looked at his mentor for a moment, then walked towards the barracks.

"Balthar!" Gregory called out.

"Yes, sir?" Balthar called back, turning around.

"How many times do I have to tell you to speak when spoken to?" Gregory asked harshly. "You'll run laps after our spar in armor."

"Yes, sir," Balthar whispered quietly, defeated.

He walked away, disappointed at himself. Balthar wanted to stand up for himself for once in his life. He wanted to tell Gregory he was through with his training. He had no desire to fight wars on the front lines, but he still wanted to help. Rather than take a life, he wanted to save a life instead. Yet, Balthar knew he had no say in this. His father was a hero in the Second War. How could he possibly oppose the plans of a man who has done so much for the Alliance? Balthar needed to forget about his newfound dream to help others. It would only be a dream.

Yet, deep down, Balthar knew that it may still be possible. If the Alliance and Horde were working together for one battle in secret, then anything was possible. That was the one thing he had to look forward in the future. Then, he could think about his future to find out if he wants to fight or to heal.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, it's been awhile, but I finally got around to another update.**

 **I figured it was time to change things up, and decided to move away from the Horde for a chapter to show the perspective of what someone from the Alliance thinks of this plan. Some of you may be wondering why I didn't put the meeting in with Danath Trollbane in, or why haven't there been any use of canon characters yet. Well, the main reason being is that I'm still trying to figure out the best way to accurately portray them. I do plan on writing with canon characters soon. I have already order copies of Beyond the Dark Portal, Blood of the Highborne, and World of Warcraft: Illidan. Those three books, along with what I've been learning from WoWpedia, should be enough for me to write an accurate representation.**

 **Also, I am pleased to announce that there will be only one more long wait like this for another chapter. I only have two to three weeks of school left, and then I'm on Summer Break. I already made a to-do list on what I need to do over the summer, and the first thing on that list is "Finish Broken World." So, expect a bunch of updates over the summer to make up for the lost time during these last two months.**

 **Finally, on a lighter note, I'd like to say how much of a pain it is to write with a dwarf. Even though my Wyrmrest Accord main is a dwarf hunter, I can never get the accents right. Keep on reading and post a review if you want.**

 **Until next time.**


	7. Teamwork Practice

Dal'bin never disobeyed an order given to him. He may question it, but he would always follow through with it. That was his duty as a scout. Yet, he did not like the part he was playing in Oliktalv's plan with the Alliance. Dal'bin did not mind that he was going to be behind enemy lines to take down the portals. He could do that easily enough. His problem was that he was going to be working with another scout.

The one thing Dal'bin enjoyed most about his work was the isolation. He worked by himself, mapping out Hellfire Peninsula for Oliktalv to use. He was ready to move to new regions of this world such as the swamp to the west. Even in this chaotic world, he found himself at peace whenever he was alone. Working with others ruined that peace for him. Still, Dal'bin was ordered to follow through with the plan. He would keep questioning why someone else was needed when he could do it himself, but he would follow orders.

For now, he could only wait inside of his commander's room in the barracks. Oliktalv was outside running training exercises to prepare for the next assault on the Legion Front. In the meantime, Dal'bin was ordered to wait for a message from the Alliance for when they are ready to begin. Yet again, this was another task he could do by himself. Yet, he was not the only one Oliktalv ordered to wait.

Gotur paced impatiently, trying not to stare outside the window while Dal'bin was sitting down on a stool, cleaning his rifle with a rag. There was a clear view of the training from the window, and Dal'bin knew that the orc was itching for a fight. He personally never trained in the group as he was not needed for it. He knew how to fight with his hands and a spear, but prefered to use his rifle instead. While trolls did not usually use such weapons, Dal'bin realized how quick and efficient the rifle was and made it his weapon of choice.

"I grow bored of waiting," Gotur declared, slamming a fist against the wall as he stared out of the window. "Surely you must feel the same way."

"Are ya talkin' ta me, mon?" Dal'bin asked, not looking up from cleaning his rifle.

"Of course I am. There's nothing to do here," Gotur answered, grunting.

"Dere be plenty ta do here," Dal'bin corrected. "Ya only care about fightin' ta realize dat."

"Fighting isn't the only thing I care about, troll," Gotur shot back, turning his head back to Dal'bin.

"Name somethin' else ya do," Dal'bin said. "It can't involve fightin', weapons, or anythin' like dat, mon."

Gotur opened his mouth to answer, but closed it. He tapped his foot onto the ground as he thought to himself. Dal'bin knew that he was not going to think of any answer. In the short time he knew the orc, the scout found out that all he cared about was a good fight. Dal'bin never got along with Gotur to begin with because of this. Still, he looked up and saw the defeated look on the orc's face. Dal'bin held back a sigh, already knowing that he will not be working by himself in the future. Now would be the best time to learn how to get along with others.

"Ya know dat isn't so bad," Dal'bin said aloud.

"Really?" Gotur asked, uncertain of it.

"Yeah, mon," Dal'bin replied, standing up. "Ya put a lot of effort into fightin'. More effort dan I've seen in da other warriors here. I know dat when ya get in a fight, ya goin' ta come out on top."

"You're right," Gotur said, his confidence returning. "I'm a warrior. I don't need to know anything else except how to fight."

Dal'bin only shrugged at Gotur's response. The orc was wrong but he did not feel the need to point it out. Sooner or later, he would find out for himself. The scout only hoped that by the time he did find out, it would not be too late. Still, Dal'bin spoke the truth when talking to the orc. Gotur was very skilled in combat, even going so far as to surpass Oliktalv. It would take a powerful warrior to bring down Gotur.

Suddenly, a large, purple bird flew inside the room, perching itself on the edge of the table. Dal'bin instantly recognized the bird back from the stadium. He first thought it was a stray creature that accidently crossed through the Dark Portal and tried to scare it away. Yet, the bird stayed, staring at the scout intensely. Seeing how it was not bothering him at the time, Dal'bin decided to leave it be afterwards. Now, he knew the truth about the bird.

"Get out of here, you stupid bird!" Gotur shouted, rushing over to the table.

"Calm down, mon," Dal'bin told the orc, pointing at the piece of paper it carried in its feet. "It be da message from da Alliance."

"About time." Gotur grunted. "Go get Oliktalv. I'll take a look at the message."

Dal'bin nodded, saluting the orc warrior as he left the room, leaving his rifle on the table. Although he was more of a fighter than a leader, Gotur outranked the scout, so he still needed to follow orders. As he walked out of the barracks, he took notice of the exact training the soldiers were going through. It involved three soldiers with two of the warriors fighting the third one at the same time. Searching for Oliktalv, Dal'bin noticed that the soldiers who fought multiple opponents were blood elves. It made sense, seeing how they would have to go through the hardest part of the battle.

In the center of the training, Dal'bin found Oliktalv sparring alongside Belara against Salin. They tried to attack the Blood Knight from two sides, but that plan was not working out. Oliktalv charged towards him, swinging both of his blades down on the blood elf. Yet, they were blocked by the shaft of his opponent's ranseur. Afterwards, Salin pivoted around his opponent, delivering a kick to the back of his leg. Oliktalv fell forward, colliding into Belara as she began to charge from behind the Blood Knight's former position. They crashed onto the ground, their opponent laughing rather loudly. Dal'bin walked closer to the scene, hearing a heated argument as Oliktalv and Belara stood back up.

"We need a new plan," Oliktalv grunted.

"The problem isn't the 're the problem," Belara shot back.

"I'm the problem? I'm the one who is actually trying to attack him," Oliktalv countered. "Sneaking around isn't going to get you far in a battle."

"I'm not trying to sneak around, I'm trying to flank him," Belara defended.

"Please, take your time," Salin said, grinning. "I can do this all day."

"Sir, ya got a message," Dal'bin said aloud as he finally made it to the group.

"Finally some good news" Oliktalv muttered to himself as he sheathed his swords. "You two continue your sparring. I'll be right back."

Without another word, Oliktalv started his way back towards the barracks. Dal'bin started to follow him, turning his head briefly to watch the training again. He focused on the sparring between Salin and Belara and was quickly surprised. Belara was now on the offensive, maneuvering around Salin with each strike from her daggers. The Blood Knight was able to match her speed, but was forced to go on the defensive. After what Dal'bin saw, he was certain that the blood elf would have the upperhand, but it appeared that Belara was only holding back in their last match. Dal'bin entered the barracks behind Oliktalv just in time to hear a loud shout from within.

"That was Gotur," Oliktalv said to himself, breaking off into a sprint.

Dal'bin followed after the commander, entering his chambers to find a change in scenery. The table in the center of the room was now cracked in half and the stools were tossed to the side. The hammock was torn down, and the scout painfully looked at his rifle, dented up badly by the destruction that took place. By the window, Gotur was jumping up and down, trying to reach the bird that was flying out of his grasp.

"Gotur!" Oliktalv shouted loudly. "Care to explain what happened in here?"

"Oliktalv," Gotur said in embarrassment as he turned to face the commander. "It's a long story."

"I'd like to hear it," Oliktalv replied back, his voice full of anger.

"Well, you see, the bird kept flying away when I tried to grab its message. So, I tried to grab it instead," Gotur explained, rubbing a hand on the back of his head. "Things may have gotten a bit out of hand."

"A bit out of hand?" Oliktalv repeated as he stepped towards Gotur. "You destroyed my room!"

The bird chirped loudly, having landed on the ground during the argument. It flapped its wings, slowly moving towards where Dal'bin stood. As the troll looked down at the creature, it let go of the message it carried in its feet. Afterwards, it flew out of the window, soaring into the sky. Gotur's jaw dropped slightly, seeing how it easily gave up the message to the scout. Dal'bin bent down, picking up the letter, and offered it over to Oliktalv. The commander took it harshly out of his hands without saying a word, reading over it. Dal'bin did not blame him for his anger seeing how today was a rough day for Oliktalv.

He bent down to pick up his rifle, inspecting it. When Gotur destroyed the table, he must of damaged it by accident. The rifle was dented up pretty badly but could still work. If given time, Dal'bin would have to make a few adjustments to it.

"Gregory is ready for battle," Oliktalv declared. "His men will be in position by tomorrow."

"So, we'll meet with him tomorrow then?" Gotur asked.

"No, Salin and Belara will meet with him," Oliktalv corrected. "We're going after the cannons that devastated us last attack."

"We'll find more of a fight in the Legion Front than we will there," Gotur complained.

"Yes, but after the last attack, we lack the numbers to aid in the direct battle," Oliktalv reminded his friend. "Just be glad we are still able to fight, Gotur."

"What be da plan now, sir?" Dal'bin asked.

"I'm going to tell Salin and Belara the news. You'll get some rest. The success of this battle ultimately depends on if you can plant those explosives fast enough," Oliktalv said, placing a hand on the troll's shoulder.

"Ya can count on me ta take care of da portals," Dal'bin replied as he saluted Oliktalv.

"What about me?" Gotur asked impatiently.

"I have a special task for you," Oliktalv said, grinning as he turned to face Gotur. "I want you to clean up my room since you're the one who destroyed it. I want it spotless."

Dal'bin walked away, taking another look at his rifle. Given that it was damaged, it could fail him in the field. That was a risk he could not take. It would take too long to finish repairs on it or to buy a new rifle. He would have to bring it with him, but not without a backup plan. Tomorrow, Dal'bin would make sure to bring a spear with him to the battle. It would not be as efficient as his rifle, but he knew how to use it if his weapon of choice fails him in the middle of the battle.

He thought back to Oliktalv's words about the success of the battle depending on him. Deep down, Dal'bin was glad that the commander trusted him for such an important task. He had to make sure things go perfectly so that the battle is won. Perhaps that is why he was not going in alone. A second scout would increase the chance of success for taking down the portals. Dal'bin would still prefered to work alone, but he had no choice in the matter. He would do whatever it took to ensure the portals were destroyed tomorrow.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm back with the latest chapter of Broken World!**

 **To start off, I'd like to announce that I am officially on Summer Break! With all of this free time, I'll be able to focus more on the story here. I plan on posting multiple chapters per week to make up for the loss time over the last few months. If things go according to plan, I'll finish this by the end of the summer and move onto the next story. As usual, I advise for you to keep on reading and leave a review.**

 **Until next time.**


	8. Adaptation

After several hours of marching in the heat, the soldiers of the Horde were setting up a small base camp on the outskirts of the Legion Front. Salin wiped the sweat off the top of his forehead, walking through the camp. From looking at his fellow elves, he could tell that they were exhausted from the march. They would only have a little less than a hour to rest before they marched into battle. A battle that Salin was not looking forward to fight in.

On the outside, he tried to remain calm and confident as he usually was. Yet, deep down, Salin knew how nervous he was. He was nervous that he was going to fail as a leader. He was nervous that all of the brave elves that followed him would perish in battle. The Blood Knight never led anyone into a battle before. He was confident in his skills in fighting, but not in leading. Salin had many years of training when it came to fighting. Yet, he had no experience with leadership.

That was what he told Oliktalv yesterday after the orc announced that Salin would be leading the main force into battle. He tried convincing him to let Belara lead instead. She was more capable of a leader than he will ever be. Yet, Oliktalv did not budge, stating that he trusted the Blood Knight to ensure nothing gets out of hand. The orc had also announced that they would be fighting alongside the Alliance yesterday. No one was too pleased to hear that, and he could tell that they still were not enjoying the fact.

"I can tell you're nervous," Belara said aloud as she walked behind him.

"Belara, you scared me!" Salin said, feigning shock as he turned around. "You can't just sneak up on a person like that. Maybe we should tie a bell to you so we can hear you."

"Don't try changing the subject," Belara sighed. "You may joke all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you're sweating a lot right now."

"I'm sweating because it's so hot outside," Salin complained, wiping more sweat off his forehead. "Things may be different for you since you're not alive, but this heat is so miserable. Why couldn't we be sent somewhere where the weather is nice. ."

"I can tell when you're lying," Belara reminded him.

"You're right," Salin sighed, defeated. "Can people really tell how nervous I am?"

"Luckily for you, the heat does give some credibility to your lie," Belara replied.

"Good. All I need to do is act the same and no one will be the wiser," Salin said, grinning.

Salin was acting the same, but it was not who he really was. Before the Scourge invaded, he was a model soldier and one of the best swordsman under Belara's command. Yet, he changed after the invasion. In the aftermath of all the destruction, Salin was caught in a deep depression. Such was the price of seeing his friends killed only to be raised into undeath. It was at that time he he nearly lost the will to continue on with his life. In hindsight, he knew that if he did not change then, he would not be alive.

His mentality was not the only thing that changed after the invasion. Salin was forced to change his style of combat. To his surprise, he found himself unable to use a sword. Whenever he grabbed the hilt of a blade, his arms and legs started shaking which prevented him from moving. Luckily, when Salin was offered the opportunity to train as a Blood Knight, he was able to train with a ranseur. He would never be as good with it as he was with a sword, but it was better than nothing.

"Are you alright?" Belara asked, snapping her fingers right in front of Salin's face.

"Of course I am," Salin said, jumping back into reality. "I think the heat is starting to get to me. Why couldn't we be sent to the Plaguelands instead? Sure, just about everything there is dead, but at least the weather isn't as bad as this."

"I don't think the heat's the problem," Belara replied. "You were staring off with this sad look on your face. Seeing how you've been grinning like a madman since we went through the portal, I knew something was up."

"Belara, the only thing up is the sky," Salin told her, chuckling at his own joke.

"Fine, don't tell me what's wrong," Belara said coldly.

Salin held back a sigh of relief as Belara decided not to push the subject any further. He reminded himself not to think of the past again. It always brought back bad memories and he could not afford to dwell on them. His soldiers expected him to be the leader who does not back away from any challenge, no matter how difficult it may be. Just thinking about the changes he faced after the invasion brought back his old self. Salin wanted to move on, but he still could not help but think about the past.

He turned his gaze to the side, seeing Dal'bin walking up to the commanders. With the scout acting under the Blood Knight's orders, he was sent ahead of the main army to report on the numbers of the Legion Front. He carried his rifle in both of his hands and had a wooden spear holstered across his back. The troll was prepared for his role in the plan which Salin hoped would be successful. The survival of his soldiers depends on how fast Dal'bin can take down the portals.

"Welcome back, Dal'bin," Salin greeted. "What do you have to report?"

"Da Burnin' Legion has summoned more demons since da last attack," Dal'bin reported. "Dey be waitin' for us, mon. Dey have been since da last attack."

"Or they could be preparing for a final offensive on the Dark Portal," Belara suggested. "If they take control of that, we already lost."

"Den dey have da numbers ta overrun da defenders," Dal'bin told him. "Da Alliance be camped at da south. If dey scouted ahead of time, den they'll know dat as well."

"Then they know we cannot lose this battle," Salin declared. "If we fail here, those demons will be able to swarm into Azeroth."

"Agreed, mon," Dal'bin said.

"Salin, maybe we should merge forces," Belara offered calmly.

"Belara, I need you to lead the second attack alongside the Alliance," Salin reminded her. "Once the portals come down, we'll need someone to finish those demons off. Oliktalv will be taking down the cannons during the battle and I'll likely be dead. So, it'll be up to you."

"Don't joke about dying when you're with me," Belara told him coldly. "I know you're going to come out of that battle alive."

"Yes, because my odds of survival are incredibly high," Salin said sarcastically.

Ever since he found out he was going to lead the first offensive on the Legion Front, Salin wondered how long he could avoid death. He already survived fighting against the Scourge, which is no small feat. The Blood Knight decided that if he did survive this upcoming battle, he would be sure to brag about how it was impossible to kill him. He grinned at the thought when a Forsaken soldier walked up to the group.

"Sir," the soldier greeted. "We have guests. They're from the Alliance."

"Good," Salin stated. "Dal'bin, you'll come with me. I'm certain you'll hear more of your role in the battle. Belara, please rally the troops under my command. We may have to begin the attack soon."

"Very well," Belara said, walking away.

The soldier led Salin and Dal'bin to the outskirts of the camp. Three Forsaken soldiers circled around the two guests, their swords drawn. The first guest was the tactician, Kelvin, who now carried a small bag. The second visitor, who stood behind the gnome, was a stranger to Salin. He recognized her as a night elf with violet skin and long ears pointed backwards. Her eyes glowed silver, matching her hair which fell down across her back. She wore brown robes covered with green leaves and smiled calmly despite the situation she was in.

"Kelvin, my good friend!" Salin exclaimed as he motioned the soldiers aside. "I think you've grown taller since we last spoke."

"We're not friends," Kelvin said logically. "I am here to meet with the scout."

"Dat be me, mon," Dal'bin told him, stepping forward. "Da name be Dal'bin."

"Dal'bin, I crafted four bombs for you to destroy the structures surrounding the portals. If they work correctly, they'll be enough to close the gateways. I assumed you do not know how to operate a gnomish bomb, so I built them using an old goblin design," Kelvin explained, shuddering at the mention of creating a goblin bomb.

"So, just hit the big, red button and boom, right?" Salin joked, seeing the night elf giggle quietly.

"That's too simple. There's more than one button," Kelvin corrected as he tossed the backpack to Dal'bin, who caught it with one hand.

"Well, I suppose you did have to make a few modifications," Salin agreed. "Goblins tend to forget to add a timer to their bombs."

"I can work with dis," Dal'bin said after looking into the backpack.

"That's good to hear," Kelvin replied before turning to the elf behind him. "This is Finnal Leafshadow. She'll guide you to the four portals."

"It is a pleasure to meet you both," Finnal said calmly, clapping her hands as she bowed to them.

"My name is Salin Sunwrath," Salin introduced himself. "Blood Knight and co-"

"There's no need for introductions," Finnal interrupted. "I know of both of you."

"You do?" Salin asked, surprised.

"Indeed I do," Finnal confirmed. "You see, I'm a druid. I was there at the stadium since the beginning."

"Ya be da bird," Dal'bin said, showing no emotion in his voice.

"What's this about a bird?" Salin asked, confused.

"That was me," Finnal answered with a giggle, ignoring Salin. "You should've seen the look on that one orc's face when he kept trying to grab the message?" Oh, and sorry about the mess."

"Ahem," Kelvin interrupted, coughing into his arm. "We should get to business. Naur is ready to begin the attack whenever you're ready. He'll sound a horn right before we begin the first assault. Are you ready?"

"Yes, I am ready to lead a suicide attack," Salin answered with a grin. "You can tell Naur that when the horn is sound, we'll follow him into battle."

"I shall inform him. The horn will be sounded in a few minutes," Kelvin told him as he walked back towards his camp.

"We should get going," Finnal said aloud. "We'll need to circle around the Legion Front to get to the two portals in the back."

"Lead da way," Dal'bin replied, slinging the backpack over his shoulder.

Salin watched as the two ran off, Finnal taking the leader. He was somewhat surprised at how fast the two scouts could move, but figured that they were good at their job. He headed back to camp, walking towards the edge facing the Legion Front. The blood elves under his command were assembled in formation, armed for battle. Salin saw no sign of Belara, but decided she would need to organize her own soldiers for the battle. The Blood Knight walked in front of the battalion, pulling out his ranseur. Seeing how they were about to charge into battle, he should make one final attempt to raise moral.

"Well, we've certainly come a long way since the Scourge invaded Quel'thalas," Salin started, trying to be as serious as he could. "Look at us now. We are about to push the Burning Legion off of this world! But you may asking why we would waste time fighting in this desolate land where the heat will kill us before the demons will have the chance to get us." A small chorus of laughter broke out as Salin wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Well, you may see a broken world, but I see a new home for our kind. I see a new future for us! I see…"

Salin's speech was interrupted by the alarm of a horn from the south. Turning his gaze south, he is able to see a large force charging towards the Legion Front. He sighed in disappointed as he realized his speech will forever remain incomplete. He was winging it but he was about to get to the good part. Still, Salin wasted no time adapting to the new change.

"Come and join me in glorious battle!" Salin shouted, pointing his ranseur towards the demonic forces.

The blood elves cheered as they started their charge. Salin broke out into a sprint, taking the lead. It was good to see their spirits lifted, but he knew that most of them will not live to see tomorrow. The blood elves caught up with the charging Alliance soldiers, which consisted of mainly humans. The two forces slowly merged together to form one large army, much to Salin's surprise. He turned his head, realizing that he was charging alongside Naur. The draenei smiled warmly at the Blood Knight as they both turned back. The demons formed a defensive line, waiting for the mortal armies to attack. Salin lunged his spear towards one of the demons as the two forces met. Then, all hell broke loose.

* * *

 **A/N: It hasn't been a week yet, and already we have another chapter of Broken World!**

 **I suppose it's time I should talk about my schedule, which I forgot to do in the previous chapter. During the summer, unless something comes up, I plan on updating this every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday. It may be only three days a week, but I do plan on writing another fanfiction every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I am not sure when I'll get it up, but it may not even be Warcraft, so it could be nothing to worry about.**

 **This was one of the hardest chapters for me to write because of the lack of research. I searched up everything I needed to know about the lore I mention in this chapter online. I mentioned before that I would be getting more Warcraft books to help me understand the lore better. Out of the three books I said I was getting a few chapters ago, I only got Illidan and Beyond the Dark Portal. I found out that Blood of the Highborne was considered a novella and have yet to find the book it goes with. I felt like what I read from that regarding the Blood Knights would of been a huge help in writing this chapter. Still, I have a schedule to keep, so I'll go with what I have. If I did make any errors regarding the lore, I'll have to find the time to fix it.**

 **Again, I encourage you to keep reading and leave a review if you find the desire to. Until next time.**


	9. Vengeance for the Fallen

"Pick up the pace!" Oliktalv ordered, running uphill. "We're almost there!"

All of the warriors heard the echo of a horn from the south. They were running out of time to take down the cannons. Since leaving from Thrallmar, the orcish warriors did not stop their march. Many of them were exhausted from having to march towards a small base in the heat, but they could not stop now. The battle at the Legion Front will be over if they fail to destroy the cannons.

Oliktalv led his warriors in a charge up the one path leading to the top of a small hill. It would be easy for the Legion to blast them with cannons as they charged unexposed. Yet, with both the Alliance and Horde attacking the main force, the demons may focus on them instead of this smaller band. Still, Oliktalv was not sure if they would be able to make it to the top. His legs ached from the pain of running. His chest was in pain as he took shallow breaths. His mind told him to keep running, but he was reaching his breaking point. He had to press on or else everyone down on the Legion Front was as good as dead.

"Almost there," Oliktalv coughed

"Don't give up now!" Gotur ordered from behind Oliktalv, exhausted like the rest of the warriors. "If you give up now, that just means more demons for me to kill."

"Heh, you're right," Oliktalv said, chuckling weakly. "Besides, I have a reputation to uphold."

"What reputation?" Gotur asked.

"My reputation of killing more demons than you," Oliktalv replied, grinning.

"Only in your dreams," Gotur shot back.

As he climbed over the top, Oliktalv quickly looked at his surroundings. Behind a large, central structure were a dozen cannons, manned by small demons. They were still being prepared to fire so that left some time. In between the orcs and their prey were three lines of felguards, ready to fight. The demons did see them coming, but could not afford to waste even one cannon on a small band. That would prove to be their undoing. Standing behind the demons was a large, brutish demon that stood taller than the orcs. Its right eye was replaced with a small, red gem. One of its arms was missing, and in its place was a large, circular saw. It grinned, believing the orcs will fall here.

"Lok'tar ogar!" Oliktalv shouted out.

"Lok'tar ogar!" Gotur repeated.

"Lok'tar ogar!" the orcish warriors exclaimed.

Oliktalv quickly pulled out both of his swords, pushing away his exhaustion as he entered a bloodlust. These demons were responsible for the death of so many brave warriors. Each and everyone of them here would pay for that defeat. The orcs clashed against the felguards, pushing them back. With a slash from both of his blades, two demons fell to the ground, their heads rolling down the hill. He pushed himself past the first line and onto the second line, slashing towards two more demons. One is struck right in the chest, falling down onto the ground. The second felguard was able to block the sword, kicking Oliktalv back. Before the demonic warrior could finish him, Gotur swung his ax towards its chest. It was a direct hit, ending the demon's life instantly. Oliktalv stood his friend pulls out his weapon from the dead demon, and walked over to the injured felguard. As it tried to crawl away, Gotur brought his ax down on it, hitting its spine directly. He planted his boot on the dying demon, pulling his weapon free again.

The first two lines were decimated by the orcish forces. The third line had fallen back to the brutish foreman, holding their ground. There was now a clear shot at the cannons, but Oliktalv was not so quick to go after the engineers. He wanted to take down the leader and avenge the brave souls who fell during his last attack. He gripped the hilts of his blade tightly, preparing for another charge. Yet, he was brought back to his senses as his friend gripped his shoulder, preventing him from charging.

"I know that look in your eyes," Gotur told him. "Save vengeance for later. Those cannons are getting ready to fire. Deal with the engineers while you still have the chance to. I'll take care of the big one myself."

Oliktalv nodded, biting down on his tongue as he realized his friend was right. He ran around the fighting, heading straight for the cannons. The orcs may not be able to destroy the weapons directly in this battle, they could at least make sure that they could not be operated. The engineers were defenseless and if they were killed, then the cannons would be useless. Vengeance would come later. He had to make sure that the warriors at the Legion Front did not suffer the same fate of those who fell five days ago.

Oliktalv roared out in anger, swinging his blade down on an engineer. It fell down with a cry, alarming the others. The small, pathetic demons could not fight, so a single warrior would be able to make quick work of them. Some tried to run only to be stopped by several other warriors. Some tried to fight back to no avail. One tried to turn its cannon on the warriors in a desperate attempt to eliminate them. Oliktalv punted that engineer off the cliff, hearing it scream as it fell down to its death. Within minutes, all of the demonic engineers were dead. The cannons, although perfectly intact, were as good as scrap metal now.

Oliktalv turned his head back to face the battle. The orcs had the upperhand, only a dozen felguards remaining. They circled up to fend off their foes, but it would only delay their deaths. Several orcs surrounded the foreman as it fought with Gotur. Any warrior who tried to interfere with the fight were cut down by the demon commander, so they could only watch. Oliktalv walked towards the circle, dragging his blades on the ground. Exhaustion was starting to overcome his bloodlust. He had to make sure that the demons were finished off before he could rest.

Gotur was slowly pushed back by the demon. Literally. The shaft of his ax was caught in between the edges of the saw, and the proud orc would not give up his weapon. The demon walked towards his foe, dragging Gotur backwards. The orc tried pulling his ax free, but it was still stuck. With its free hand, the brutish demon threw a punch towards Gotur's exposed side. The blow knocked the orc back as he lost a grip on his weapon, landing on top of three other warriors. The foreman charged towards them as his foe rolled away, instead stabbing his saw down on another warrior. As Gotur stood up, the demon made quick work of the other two warriors on the ground, and turned his attention to face his opponent.

"Face me in battle, you brute!" Oliktalv taunted loudly. "Let us fight so that I may kill you with my own blades!"

The foreman turned its attention to Oliktalv, cackling madly as it shook its saw, throwing the trapped ax to the ground. Gotur looked at it, cracking his knuckles. Yet, upon seeing his friend shake his head, the warrior took a step back. Oliktalv stared up at the towering demon as it walked slowly towards him. He would not make the same mistake as Gotur did. Despite his bloodlust, he knew that charging in blindly would get him killed. He already had a plan in mind to kill the commander.

The foreman raised its saw up in the air followed by slashing it down on its opponent. Unlike Gotur, Oliktalv made no attempt to block it. Instead, he rolled to the left, the saw stabbing into the ground. He quickly swung both of his swords into the demon's leg, leaving a nasty gash on it. He quickly jumped back as the commander swung his saw again, missing the orc by inches. Oliktalv grinned to himself as he landed on the ground. His plan was simple. Instead of trying to block the mechanical saw, he would instead inflict injuries on the flesh of the demon. The leg wound would slow down its movements, giving him the time to go for the finish.

The demon, although in pain, charged Oliktalv once more. As it swung its blade, he rolled to the right this time, swinging his blades towards the other leg. Both met their target, and the commander was brought down on its knees. The foreman yet again swung its saw in a desperate attack. Yet, instead of rolling back, Oliktalv quickly blocked the saw with one of his swords, which became stuck in the saw's teeth. The demon grinned as it began to push its weapon down on its opponent. Yet, this is exactly what the orc wanted.

Still having a sword to use, Oliktalv swung it towards the flesh connecting the saw to the demon's body. The blow landed, severing the foreman's weapon as it screamed in pain. The foreman held itself up on its knees, supporting itself with a bulky fist. It lost the battle but still glared madly at the orc. Without hesitating, he brought the demon down with a single slash of his sword to its neck. It did not cut off the head completely, but it was enough to finish off the commander. Its corpse fell onto the ground with a thud as Oliktalv set his boot down on its chest in victory. The remaining felguards have been killed off by the remaining orcish warriors.

"Brothers and sisters," Oliktalv started. "This battle may be small in the grand plan. We may not be on the front lines along with the others at the Legion Front. Yet, we have accomplished so much today. Five days ago, many of our comrades fell to these same cannons. Today, these fallen warriors have been avenged! When you think back on this day, remember those who could not be here today. Remember those who fell honorably in battle. Now, leave nothing of this camp for the demons to use when we come back!"

The orcish warriors cheered as they turned their attention to the cannons and central building. They started bashing their weapons against them, slowly turning them into scrap iron. Oliktalv did not take part in the destruction, instead walking towards the cliff edge. From there, he had a clear view of the Legion Front. He saw an endless sea of demonic monsters swarming against a small island of mortal defenders. Yet, they held their ground against the Burning Legion. He heard a shattering explosion and grinned to himself. Dal'bin had three more portals to take down now. The plan was actually working.

"Even if we do fail here today, the demons will be weaken," Gotur claimed as he walked up behind his friend.

"Who said we were going to fail?" Oliktalv asked.

"We won't fail if the warriors down there have the attitude you have," Gotur said, grinning.

"Perhaps you're right," Oliktalv mused. "There's another matter we need to speak of."

"And what is that?" Gotur asked.

"Who killed the most demons, of course," Oliktalv answered.

Both orc warriors chuckled loudly. They made no attempt trying to count their kills. Oliktalv already lost count of the demons felled by his swords. Their role in the battle was done now. His warriors had to be exhausted from the marching, fighting, and destruction. There was nothing they could do now to help their allies. Oliktalv could only hope that they would succeed in taking the Legion Front.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, here's the next update. It's short and could probably be considered filler, but I've been busy today preparing for a weekend trip. Speaking of that, I won't be able to post a chapter on Sunday. I'll be back home Sunday afternoon, but at that point, I can either rush a big chapter or post another filler chapter. So, I'm going to wait until Tuesday to post the next chapter. Sorry for the delay, but I just want you, as the reader, to enjoy the story.**

 **Until next time.**


	10. Expendable

So far, everything was going according to plan. The Burning Legion did not unleash their cannons onto Naur and Salin's distraction force, so Dal'bin assumed that they were taken down. The next step of the plan relied on him. If he failed now, then the whole plan would fall apart. Their attack would be wiped out and the demons would continue attacking the Dark Portal. Eventually, the Burning Legion would overwhelm the defenders and will control a gateway heading straight into Azeroth. The scout knew he could not fail now.

One portal was already destroyed and Dal'bin was now armed the second explosive at the next portal. Arming the device was simple yet complicated at the same time. He only needed to press a few buttons to activate a ten second timer. Yet, the bomb would have to be placed inside of the structure the portals were housed in. The dark spires would fall away from the crystal conjuring the gateway, which would fall into and destroy the portal, unleashing a magical shockwave. Dal'bin had to crouch down to plant the device inside a corner of the structure. At any moment, a demon could come out from the portal and strike the troll down while he was defenseless. One slip could result in the bomb falling into the portal leading into the Twisting Nether.

"Dal'bin, we have company," Finnal announced, standing guard over the troll.

"How many demons?" Dal'bin asked, unable to see outside of the spire.

"Five, and they know we're here," Finnal answered. "I guess they don't like us taking down their portals."

"I'm almost done," Dal'bin told her. "Distract dem while I finish up here."

"I'm on it," Finnal replied.

Dal'bin heard footsteps run off as Finnal entered combat. Although he could not see the battle, he heard the fierce roar of a beast. As a druid, she is able to assume the forms of animals to combat demons. Such a tactic would throw a demon off its guard at first, but they would eventually adapt to the situation. He would need to hurry to help his partner before more demons arrived. He quickly punched in a few more buttons on the bomb, activating the countdown process. As the ticking started, Dal'bin rolled back out of the spire and stood up. He quickly grabbed his rifle from the ground as he sprinted away towards battle.

Finnal, now assuming the form of a large nightsaber, leapt off of her third victim as a felguard swung its blade down. She growled towards the two demons, having already taken down three felguards. As far as Dal'bin could tell, she was not wounded, only covered in demon blood. Without stopping, he quickly turned his rifle upon the felguards and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the first felguard right between the eyes as the second one turned to face the charging troll. He pulled the trigger again, staggering the demon back with a shot to the shoulder. A third bullet to the throat ended the battle.

Dal'bin jumped towards Finnal and the slain demons as the bomb went off. A large boom came from the structure as the spires started to fall backwards. The crystal collapsed into the portal, which unleashed a shockwave of fel magic as it consumed the crystal before disappearing. Luckily, the two scouts were far enough from the aftermath of the explosion, so they were not harmed. Finnal assumed her elven form again, wiping some of the demon's blood from her mouth.

"That's the one part I hate about shapeshifting," Finnal commented, spitting into the ground. "Pouncing onto someone before biting into their neck is the easiest way to kill an opponent. But there's always an aftertaste of blood in the mouth. Demons are the most disgusting of them all."

"We need ta get ta da next portal, mon," Dal'bin said aloud, ignoring her comment. "Where be da next portal?"

"What? No checking me for injuries or anything?" Finnal asked. "I could of been killed fighting those demons by myself, and where would that leave you?"

"Where be da next portal?" Dal'bin repeated.

"You're no fun," Finnal sighed, crossing her arms. "Just try to keep up."

The night elf charged off west, quickly assuming a form of the bird from before. She flew lower to the ground as Dal'bin followed her. The one thing he noticed about Finnal is that she was not taking the battle seriously. She kept trying to strike up conversation with him at the worst of times. She kept him distracted from arming the bomb at the first portal. Yet, Dal'bin decided to push his thoughts of her aside. He had a job to do, and he could not waste time worrying about his partner for it.

As Dal'bin approached the third portal, he saw a trio of felguards charging towards him from his left flank. He stopped in his tracks, pivoting to face them as he took aim with his rifle. After a moment of pause, he pulled the trigger, nailing the head of the charging demons straight into its left eye. As it collapsed to the ground, he pulled the trigger again, hitting the second felguard through its chest. With two demons down, Dal'bin took aim at the final one, which would be upon him at any moment now. Aiming for the chest, he pulled the trigger again, only to find that it was stuck now. After unsuccessfully pulling it two more times, he silently cursed Gotur and his recklessness.

The felguard swung its blade towards the troll, aiming straight for his neck. Dal'bin backed up, raising his rifle to defend himself from the blade. The rifle snapped into two from the blow, the scout dropping the pieces onto the ground. The demon swung again, forcing the troll to pivot away from the blade as he pulled out a wooden spear holstered behind his back. Dal'bin crouched down low to the ground as the demon charged again. As the distance between the two fighters closed, he lunged up, bringing the tip of his spear up. It pierced straight through the demon's chest, ending its life. He pulled the wooden weapon out, and quickly ran over to the structure. Finnal was leaning against the spire when she noticed Dal'bin coming to her.

"What happened?" Finnal asked, concern.

"Nothin' important," Dal'bin replied, pulling out the third device as he tossed his spear to her.

"You're missing your rifle and carry a spear covered in blood," Finnal noted, catching the spear. "If that's not important, then what is?"

"Takin' down da portals," Dal'bin answered, crouching down as he crawled into the structure.

"So, you don't think that a fight that could get you killed is important?" Finnal asked.

"I be expendable, mon," Dal'bin admitted as he armed the bomb. "We both be expendable."

"That's not true," Finnal said, shocked. "We're going to make it out of this battle alive."

"Maybe for ya, dat be da case, but it be different for me," Dal'bin told her. "Da commanders say otherwise, but dey don't think I'll survive dis battle."

"And what makes you think that?" Finnal asked, a hint of confusion in her voice.

"Dey never gave me orders on what ta do after da portal comes down," Dal'bin revealed. "Once da final portal comes down, I be on my own."

Oliktalv told Dal'bin multiple times that he would survive the battle. Yet, if that were the case, he would of been told on what to do after he was done destroying the portals. He was not ordered to continue fighting the demons. He was not ordered to retreat. He was not given any orders at all. Dal'bin knew that as a scout, his life was not worth as much as his commanding officers. He knew that his life could easily be sacrificed if it secured the Horde another victory. He was just a pawn, waiting to be sacrificed for an advantage. Yet, despite accepting he may die today, he was going to do everything he could to survive.

With Finnal remaining silent, Dal'bin punched in the buttons on the explosives, activating it. He rolled back from the spire, grabbing his spear as he stood up in one fluid motion. He did not bother waiting for Finnal as he bursted into a sprint, knowing exactly where the final portal was. Afterall, he was the one to find the portal days ago. As the explosion echoed from behind him, Dal'bin looked to his left to notice that Finnal was keeping up with him in her nightsaber form. Apparently, she was content with having the troll take the lead for the final portal. Yet, taking it down would be much harder than the two scouts realized.

Approaching the final structure, they both stopped in their tracks. Standing in between the two scouts and their objective was a lone nathrezim, looking down upon the two. He was alone, but the grin on his face revealed his confidence. Perhaps he believed he could rip out the hearts of the two mortals before him. Dal'bin tightened his grip on his spear, remembering how Oliktalv reported that such a demon was in charge of leading the Legion Front. Yet, he could not waste time trying to take down the leader. The portal was far more important.

"So, you are the two mortals who have been destroying my portals," the demon said, snarling. "Pathetic."

Without waiting, Finnal dashed forward, leaping towards the nathrezim. He easily swatted the druid to the side with a strike from his taloned hands. She roared in pain, her side bleeding from the attack. The demon chuckled as it walked off towards her, the two engaging in battle. Dal'bin did not bother joining in on the battle, instead rushing ahead towards the exposed portal. He crouched down again, planting the bomb. Much to his surprise, he found himself working faster than before. The troll had been more cautious with the other three portals, but he felt more motivated than before.

As his ears picked up the ticking sound, he rolled backwards, and pivoted around to face the battle. The dreadlord lifted his opponent up above in the air, and threw her straight down into the ground. Finnal slowly morphed back into her elven form, beaten as she groaned out in pain. The nathrezim reached down, his talons wrapping around her neck. She coughed in pain, kicking weakly towards the demon's chest. He laughed manically and squeezed harder.

Without thinking, Dal'bin screamed out as he darted towards the demon. The nathrezim turned his head to face the troll, throwing the night elf to the side. He casually walked towards his new opponent, grinning. The troll jabbed his spear forward, aiming for the commander's neck. The demon easily grabbed the spear, forcing it out of Dal'bin's hands as he kicked the troll backwards. He realized how outmatched he was, but it did not matter. His mission was finished now.

The explosive went off, the shockwave knocking both the troll and demon onto the ground. As Dal'bin pushed himself onto his hands and knees, he heard a horn sounded in the distance. He grinned, knowing that the battle was won as he saw both Alliance and Horde charged into the fray. Azeroth would win the battle at the end. Lifting himself up, he looked up to the sky to see a bird flying away. At least Finnal would survive today. It would take a miracle to save him now.

The nathrezim stood up, snarling as he looked upon the troll. Retreat was no longer an option for Dal'bin as several felguards surrounded the two fighters. The dreadlord grinned, and snapped the scout's spear with both of his hands, tossing the broken pieces away. This was not going to be a fight he was going to win. Unarmed, outnumbered, and alone. This was how Dal'bin was going to die. He cracked his knuckles, already knowing that if he was going to die, he would go down taking as many demons as he could to the Twisting Nether.

"Da battle be over," Dal'bin called out to the demon commander. "Ya lost, mon. Today, Azeroth prevails."

"It matters little," the nathrezim stated, grinning. "You foolish mortals may win today, but it will take time for them to find me here. Meanwhile, I shall make sure that you suffer for the destruction you caused. But, thinking about it, the torture I shall inflict on you in your final hour is nothing compared to the pain of knowing that you were left here to die!"

Dal'bin grunted, finished with talking. He already accepted he was expendable and was going to die today. Yet, there was some hope for him. The leader of the demons seemed interested in taking the scout on himself in an act of revenge. To make matters better, the nathrezim was going to take his time killing the troll. Dal'bin would be sure to use this to his advantage. If he could survive for long enough, he might be able to walk away from this battle alive. After a short staredown, the two opponents charged each other. Dal'bin threw a punch towards the demon's face as the nathrezim lashed his claws towards the troll. This was going to be a fight for survival.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, sorry for the long wait, folks. After returning from my trip, an old friend of mine returned to WoW after a long break, so I've been getting back to roleplaying on WoW again. The roleplay took up last Tuesday and Thursday while Sunday was Father's Day, so I was spending time with my family. Things should be back to normal schedule now.**

 **Moving on, I did mention I was thinking about writing other fanfiction in the future. So far, I believe I have planned what I am going to be writing next. I shall be writing stories for two other video games, but I'll tell you guys about what I have in store for Warcraft. I have two stories planned for Warcraft, both of which happens at the same time as the Outland arc, but on Azeroth instead. First, I shall be writing about the adventure of a gnome hunter, a race/class combo I have wanted to be real since Cataclysm. Much later, I shall be writing another story which can be considered a "prequel" for the Northrend arc when we get to that point. I am still taking notes on both of these ideas, but so far, I cannot say when I shall be writing them.**

 **I am also pleased to announce that Broken World has received its first review after nine chapters! So, I would like to thank 55RAMPT55 for writing it up. I shall look into fixing the grammatical errors you mentioned. Since I am forcing myself on a tight schedule, some mistakes do tend to get by even after the proofreading. I will have to find time either during the writing or after to take a look at each chapter and discover these mistakes.**

 **As always, keep on reading. Until next time.**


	11. Saving Prayer

"Fight on!" Gregory declared. "These demons stand no chance against the might of the Alliance!"

Balthar had to admit that his mentor was much more than a good warrior and a strict teacher. Gregory was also an incredible leader as well as proven in this battle. He was able to inspire for his men to fight harder than ever before. More importantly, he fought alongside his men, leading the charge into the battle directly. It was times like this when Balthar realized how skilled his mentor was. Unlike himself, fighting seemed to suit Gregory just fine, and he was long past his prime. He could not begin to imagine what the man was like back during the Second War.

Balthar dragged himself behind the commander, already growing tired. It was difficult enough to walk around in heavy armor. Charging into battle while it was hot a different challenge. Luckily, Gregory insisted that his student stayed behind him at all times during the battle so that he could learn by watching. While he was not learning, he could not help but be amazed by his mentor's skill as a warrior. Each time a felguard charged, he managed to defend himself before going in for a stab straight to the chest. Each time a felhound tried to pounced him, he just slashed the demon down in midair. It was truly impressive.

Even more impressive in battle was Kelvin, who fought just to the left of Gregory. Balthar was shocked when the gnome had took off his jacket and announced he would be joining the battle. He initially thought that the tactician only planned the battles and never fought. He believed the swords the gnome carried were to show his status and that he relied on his flintlock pistol for defense. Yet, Balthar knew that he was wrong. With a series of slashes with both of his swords, Kelvin was able to bring down a foe to its knees before going for the finish. He only pulled out a flintlock pistol for a few times this battle, always hitting his target. The problem was the weapon was one shot only, so he would spend some time reloading it after firing.

As the Alliance fought in formation, they fought against the demons as they marched towards Naur's position. The draenei and the army he was with was completely surrounded by their demonic enemies. They were holding out, but not for much longer. With the reinforcements incoming, the Burning Legion sent forces to slow them down. It was working, but in the end, they would make it in time to save Naur and his soldiers. Balthar sighed in relief as they finally joined forces with the initial attack, hoping to see his friend safe and alive.

The formation broke, the soldiers scattering to fight the numerous demons. Balthar stuck with Gregory, who was also accompanied by Kelvin and eight soldiers. As they prepared to fight the next demon, a familiar bird nearly crashed down onto the ground in front of them, flapping her wings just in time to avoid falling. Finnal transformed back into her elven form, struggling to stand from her knees. She held onto her side, which was bleeding badly. Without waiting, Balthar quickly rushed to her, grabbing onto her free arm to help her from the ground. He did not have to worry about Gregory saying he should of waited for orders first. One of the first lessons the commander taught his student was that all rules were broken on the battlefield.

"Commander," Finnal called out weakly.

"You've done enough, Finnal," Gregory told her. "One of you find and take her to a priest."

"Not yet," Finnal interrupted. "I need to show you where the enemy commander is, sir."

"You found the demon's commander," Balthar asked, shocked.

"I think so," Finnal replied, uncertain. "He was different from the other demons and referred to the portals as his. I left Dal'bin to fight him. We must help him. They're not too far."

"Sir, you are needed here," Kelvin told Gregory. "The first wave has suffered major casualties. If you fought alongside them, you may be able to inspire them to keep fighting despite this loss."

"But what about Dal'bin?" Finnal asked, a look of despair overcoming her face.

"He has played his role in this plan," Kelvin answered logically. "If the Horde doesn't save him, then it isn't our problem. Our problem is to finish the demons off."

"We just can't leave him there to die!" Finnal shouted at the gnome.

"Sir," Balthar said aloud. "There has to be something we can do."

Balthar wanted to help. He knew that it was probably dangerous to face off against the leader of the Legion Front, but supposedly, that is exactly what Dal'bin is doing. The Horde has yet to send out soldiers to rescue him, which means it was down to the Alliance to save them. As the fighting surrounded the group, Gregory thought to himself, closing his eyes. On one hand, Balthar knew that Gregory would not want to waste time saving a scout of the Horde from demons. On the other hand, the commander is in the way. Balthar knew his mentor believed that the best way to win a battle was to take out the head. Gregory had a tough choice to make.

"I have my decision," Gregory announced. "We're going to to take down the commander before he has a chance to slip away to the Twisting Nether."

"Sir, may I reminded you that the battle is being fought right here?" Kelvin asked, annoyed.

"Kelvin, find Salin," Gregory ordered, ignoring the question. "Tell him that we're going to need some help saving his scout. Afterwards, join up with Naur and command our forces here. Finnal, you will lead us straight to the commander, but do not fight. The men here will keep you safe from these demons. Balthar will take care of any demons that make it through us. Move out!"

"Yes sir," Finnal replied, smiling.

Kelvin sighed as he quickly ran off. Finnal wrapped her arm around Balthar's shoulder, letting him support her as they walked. Gregory and his soldiers took point, forming a half circle defense to protect the scout. Fortunately, it seemed as if the Burning Legion was not interested in attacking a small group breaking away from the action. Balthar sighed in relief, glad he did not have to fight. He did not want to be responsible if anything happened to Finnal.

After a few minutes of fighting, the group came upon a circle of felguards gathered around two combatants. One was the nathrezim, likely the commander Finnal reported. The other was the troll, Dal'bin. He was bloody with long scratches covering his body. His right leg was twisted badly and his left arm slumped down as if popped out of its socket. One of his eyes was swollen shut and his nose was broken, blood pouring from it. Yet, despite all of his injuries, the troll was able to maintain a poor defensive stance. It certainly took determination for him to keep fighting despite the pain he was in.

"For the Alliance!" Gregory shouted as he charged forward.

The soldiers yelled out in unison as they followed their commander. They cutted down many felguards before they had a chance to react to the ambush. The nathrezim snarled, firing a fel bolt into the sky which bursted into a explosion. It did not affect the fight, but he was likely trying to signal for reinforcements. Gregory charged towards the demonic commander, swinging his blade in an upward arch towards his foe. Yet, the demon sidestepped, grinning as he found a new victim to torture.

As the soldiers kept the felguards distracted, Balthar supported Finnal as they walked over to Dal'bin. The troll turned to face the two, taking a step forward as he fell down onto the ground. At that moment, Finnal pushed Balthar back as she rushed towards the scout, falling down on her knees. He quickly rushed up behind her, looking down at Dal'bin. The eye that was not swollen was closed, but his chest raised with each breath. He lifted a hand onto his chest, clutching one of his wounds tightly. He would survive for now, but he needed to leave the battlefield.

"Come on, Dal'bin," Finnal said kindly, grabbing onto his hand to throw his arm around her shoulder. "We need to get out of here."

"Da portals," Dal'bin muttered, coughing out blood.

"I could stay with you two," Balthar offered. "You need someone to watch over you as you leave. More demons could come at any moments."

As Balthar said that, he was immediately knocked down on his side. He rolled onto his back, looking up in fear at the sight of a felguard that raised his blade to strike the man down. He tried reaching for his own sword on the ground as Finnal rushed over to them, but he knew that the fastest among the three was the demon. This was how it was going to end for Balthar. Struck down by the first of many demonic reinforcements he did not see coming. He was nothing but a failure that his father would be disappointed in. There was only one thing he could do now that death was coming for him.

"Light save me," Balthar whispered silently to himself.

As he raised his left arm to hopefully block the blow, a miracle saved his life. A dagger flew into the demon's neck, piercing its throat. It coughed on its own blood as it fell onto its back, squirming as its life left its body. Balthar grabbed his sword and quickly stood up, taking in the new sight. There were more demons that came from the signal, but they were busy fighting a new foe. Men with decayed flesh fought against the demons, slowly gaining the upperhand. The thought of having the undead fighting in this battle was frightening to Balthar, yet they did save his life. One of the undead, a female wearing leather armor with a hood covering her face, walked up to the dead felguard. She knelt down and pulled the dagger out of the demon's throat. She then stood up, and looked at the two scouts.

"Good work, the both of you," she told them. "Thanks to you, we may be able to win this battle."

"Belara," Dal'bin muttered, reaching out towards the voice.

"We need to get out of here," Finnal said, grabbing onto Dal'bin's hand to help him up.

"Don't worry," the undead rogue, Belara, assured them as two of her dead soldiers walked up to the group. "You two, make sure the scouts make it to a healer. Both of them."

The two soldiers nodded silently. One of them threw Dal'bin over his shoulders while the other took point, leading the scouts away. Balthar was now left with Belara, who was observing the battle taking place around them since the demons were focused on other fighters. To be exact, her gaze focused on the battle between Gregory and the nathrezim. So far, the warrior had not struck a single blow on the demon, who was able to evade his blows. The old man was tiring, unable to keep up with his opponent.

"The demon is toying with him," Balthar declared

"I'm not surprised," Belara said emotionless. "The demon is too confident that he'll win, even without the portals. That's why he wasn't afraid to send off a signal for all of the Legion Front to see. That's why I came here to begin with."

"So, Salin didn't sent you here?" Balthar asked.

"Salin thought it would be a good idea to take on an infernal head on," Belara told him, sighing.

"You don't mean he's," Balthar started saying

"He's alive," Belara interrupted. "What he lacks in brains, he makes up for endurance. He is out of action, but he'll make it."

"Well, that's sort of good to hear," Balthar said in relief.

"Stay here," Belara told him. "I have a plan but I need someone fighting the demon there for it to work. If your friend there gets himself killed, you'll have to take his place."

Before Balthar could continue their conversation, Belara ran off into a battle away from the nathrezim, disappearing among the fighters. He blinked, trying to find her with little success. He turned back to face his mentor only to look at the battle in fear. The demon clutched Gregory's sword hand in one fist, crushing it. The warrior screamed out as he dropped his sword, throwing a punch towards the demon's chest. It hits, although the nathrezim was not phased by the attack. He forced Gregory onto his back and slammed a hoof into his neck, keeping it there. The man gasped for air as he tried to lift the demon off his windpipe, but he was not getting anywhere.

Balthar gripped his sword tightly, looking on at the demon with fear. He knew he had to do something to help his mentor. He was no fighter, but if just stood by and watched, Gregory would die. No more watching. No more being a coward. Balthar may not be a true warrior, but he was going to try acting like one at least. He was going to save Gregory or die in the attempt. Either way, he knew that he would be proud of himself.

"Light, grant me strength," Balthar whispered to himself,

He screamed at the top of his lungs as he ran towards the demon, dragging his sword across the ground. The nathrezim turned his head to face Balthar, grinning wickedly. He knew that the demon outmatched him and now knew he was coming, but that was not going to stop him. As he neared the demon, Balthar quickly pivoted his foot as he swung in a circle towards the nathrezim, his sword extending out to slash the enemy commander.. Although the demon did see the charge coming, he did not see such an attack coming. Still, little damage was done as the blade only nicked lower chin of the demon, drawing little blood. To make things worst, he lost his grip on the sword as it was flung into the dirt.

Before Balthar could react, the demon quickly grabbed hold of his throat and lifted him up in the air. He grabbed the fist with both hands, trying to pry one of the talons off his throat as he kicked helplessly against the nathrezim's chest. He gasped for air, trying to hold onto life as the demon tried to squeeze it away. Looking down, he saw Gregory still fighting for his life as well to no success. At least both student and master would die together. Balthar tried to gather enough air in his lungs to mutter one last prayer, but there was no hope for that. He raised his head up, staring defiantly into the demon's cold eyes.

As the demon opened his mouth to speak, only a terrifying scream came from it. Balthar fell to the ground, falling onto his mentor as the nathrezim took a step back, still screaming. Both humans took in deep breaths of air as Balthar slowly looked up at the demon. He was trying to claw towards his back, swinging madly. As he turned, he caught sight of Belara, who held onto two daggers buried deep into the demon's back, twisting them to inflict pain. She lifted one dagger from her prey's back, and quickly brought it down upon the back of his neck. The nathrezim struggled for only a few more moments, screaming as his body bursts into different bats, which flew away to the sky, leaving behind his armor. Belara landed on her feet, sliding the daggers up her sleeve as she walked away, not bothering to check on the two humans.

They both stood up, and looked around at their surroundings. All of the demons that fought to protect their commander had fallen. The undead soldiers were walking away now, heading back towards the main battle, which was as good as won as the combined forces of the Alliance and Horde outnumbered the defenders of the Legion Front. Out of the eight soldiers that followed Gregory, only three remained. Yet, even though the fighting continued from afar, the battle was over. With the Alliance and Horde finally uniting, Azeroth had won against the Burning Legion.

"Balthar," Gregory coughed.

"Is something wrong, sir?" Balthar asked, concern as he turned his head to face his mentor.

"You've done a good job today," Gregory admitted, pointing to the dark blood of the demonic commander that fell onto his face.

"That was only a scratch, sir," Balthar muttered, looking down at the ground.

"Well, you landed a scratch while I was busy swinging my blade like a madman," Gregory chuckled, firmly gripping his student's shoulder in encouragement. "You get some rest with these three here. I'll head back down and make sure no demon escapes."

Balthar looked up to see his mentor smile warmly at him before he walked away towards the battle. He felt pride from Gregory finally giving him credit, but that did not change his mind on his new path. It was not his training that saved the day today. It was not by luck that he was still alive either. Today, it is only by the blessing of the Light that he was alive. He was struggling with the choice of continuing his training with a blade or following the Light as a healer. Today's battle told him where his path would take him.

"Thank you," Balthar said aloud, staring up towards the sky with a smile on his face.

* * *

 **A/N: Yet again, I stay up far too late at night to finish writing up a chapter, but I have to stick with the deadlines I've set for myself. I'll make this brief as I really need to get some sleep now. When writing up this story, it was mainly formed up two parts. After the next update, we will be done with part one. Afterwards, we'll move onto part two, which I believe is suppose to be a twice as long as part one. I just thought this was something I should tell you ahead of time and not bring it up when it was happening.**

 **As always, keep on reading if you enjoy the story. Until next time.**


	12. Aftermath

Neither faction remained on the battlefield long after the Burning Legion was defeated. There was a short celebration amongst the soldiers and a small ceremony to commemorate the union between the Alliance and Horde on this day. As Oliktalv was away and Salin being tended to by the healers for his injuries, Belara had to represent the Horde. She did not bother to listen to the human's speech. He was just trying to raise morale even though it was raised enough from this battle. Afterwards, she shook hands with the man, and they went their separate ways. It was for the best that way as the dark ranger was not sure how long her Forsaken would remain passive and not pick a fight.

Belara made her way back to the base camp the Horde set up. The guards manning their posts saluted her as she walked into camp. She smiled, glad to be back in command. Salin was growing as a leader, but she knew she would be better than him when it came down to leadership. The only reason the Blood Knight was even placed in command was because Oliktalv must of saw past his foolishness and caught a glimpse of honor. Belara had no honor left, but honor does not make for a good leader. When it comes to battle, a leader must be willing to do whatever it takes to secure victory.

With that logic in mind, Belara did not mind working with the Alliance this one time. Before the ceremony, a soldier gave a report on estimated casualties. Luckily for her, less than a quarter of her soldiers were killed or seriously injured. Then, Belara found out that out of the first wave of attackers, over half of the soldiers were deceased or badly wounded, including Salin. Had the Horde attempted this same plan alone, the casualties would of been higher. The Alliance suffered a similar toll from what she heard. In the end, both factions were better off working together.

All of the action was happening at the center of the camp. The injured were gather there, being treated for their wounds. Those with minor cuts and bruises were taken care of easily while those who suffered from more serious injuries such as broken bones were being stabilized to move back to Thrallmar where they can rest as they healed. The fallen soldiers were gathered in one corner where volunteers were covering the corpses with clothes before placing them upon a stretcher. Afterwards, two would grab the ends of it carried the body away. Belara mused to herself, realizing how the horrors of war were seen in the aftermath rather than during the actual war. She walked over to one of the healers, who was stitching up a cut on a blood elf's shoulder.

"Do you know how much longer until everything is done here?" Belara asked.

"Shouldn't take too much longer now," the healer answered, focusing on the stitching. "We just need to finish up with the corpses and get those who cannot walk onto the stretchers."

"Good," Belara said coldly. "I shall leave you be."

With some time to kill, Belara decided that it would be best to check on Salin. The Blood Knight may need some company before they began the journey back to Thrallmar. Yet, finding him would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Most of the injured were blood elves, so it would be easy for him to blend in with the crowd. As Belara looked for her old friend, her focused turned to someone who stood out from the crowd. Dal'bin was sitting down on the ground, no healer tending to him. He was shirtless and most of the cuts he received from fighting the nathrezim were nearly healed. Belara was almost shocked as she knew that the cuts were initially deep and wide. Then, she remembered that trolls did have the ability to regenerate their wounds. She approached the troll, who saw the dark ranger coming. He quickly got up and saluted her, standing at attention.

"Enough of that," Belara told him. "There's no need to be so formal right now. You were nearly killed today."

"Dat was nothin'," Dal'bin claimed as he looked down at the dark ranger. "I almost had da demon dead,"

"When I saw you on the battlefield, you couldn't even stand," Belara pointed out, crossing her arms. "No more lying. That's an order I know you'll follow. Was there any point during the battle where you knew that you were going to lose it?"

"Yeah, mon," Dal'bin answered without hesitation.

"How come you didn't run?" Belara asked. "Even if you were surrounded, I could imagine you being able to slip away. It better not be honor that was holding you back."

"Nah mon," Dal'bin replied. "I didn't have any orders for what ta do after da portals were deactivated."

"Dal'bin, please forgive me if I insult you in anyway, but that's foolish," Belara stated sharply. "At that point, you had the free will to decide what your next step was, but you didn't use that free will. Instead, you let the Burning Legion decide what you would do next. Next time, I may not get lucky and save your life."

"It be my job ta follow orders," Dal'bin said without emotion, keeping eye contact with the dark ranger.

"I do not blame you for following orders, but whenever there is a lack of command, it is up to you to decide what to do," Belara told him.

"Whatever ya say,mon," Dal'bin replied, shrugging. "Do ya need me ta do anythin'?"

"You didn't learn anything at all from that," Belara muttered with a sigh. "Go help take down the camp. By now, there should be some soldiers taking down the tents. Also, take it easy. You're no good to anyone if those wounds of yours become worse."

Dal'bin nodded, and with another salute, he ran off, out of sight. Belara shook her head once the troll was gone. He would make for a perfect soldier with the ability to follow any order without question. That trait was rare as there are some who question the motive behind every order. Yet, it is a bit worrying if the scout is unable to think for himself. Even after he was done fighting, he might continue looking for some sort of order to follow. She could only hope that Dal'bin would realize the error of his ways and start to learn how to be more independent.

With some of the wounded out of the way, Belara was able to spot Salin. He was set upon a stretcher, a fur blanket covering most of his body. His exposed feet poked from one end while his head emerged from the other, eyes closed. Around his lower face were multiple burn marks. A proper priest or shaman could easily heal those away back at Thrallmar, although Belara was not worried about that. The Blood Knight took a punch directly from an infernal. That hit alone broke his weapon and knocked him out of the fight. She could picture the bruises underneath his armor and the broken bones underneath his skin. Silently, she sat next to him, coughing into her arm. One of Salin's eyes slowly opened, followed by the other.

"So, here to criticize me?" Salin asked, turning his head to her. "We're not even back at Thrallmar yet and I'm about to hear ten different reasons on why I'm a failure as a leader."

"Don't blame yourself for that," Belara told him. "Had I been in your position, my soldiers would suffer the same as yours did. Sometimes, sheer numbers can overcome strategy and skill."

"Well, thank you for that," Salin said, closing his eyes. "I guess that means you're here to yell at me for charging that infernal."

"You charged the infernal?" Belara asked, shocked. "I thought it was the other way around."

"It was I who tried to engage in battle with it," Salin answered. "So, does that make me a fool?"

"It does!" Belara told him, her voice rising with anger. "Did you want to kill yourself when you charged it or were you hoping to think of some grand and heroic tale to tell when we leave this place?"

"I survived worst," Salin said, forming a small smile before grimacing. "Gah, it hurts to smile now."

"You're avoiding the question, Salin," Belara said, frowning. "I don't like this new change, and I don't believe for a second that it is natural. Please, can you tell me what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that someone decided to cover my body up with a fur blanket in the middle of the heat," Salin answered as he chuckles. His laugh, however, turns into a series of hacking coughs. "By the Light, it now hurts to laugh too!"

Belara sighed, slowly standing up as Salin continued to rant on about the heat. There were times where she was very cold to him. She did not hate him, but rather the situation they were both in. Unlike her, the Blood Knight had survived the invasion of Quel'thalas, and this was how he was choosing to live his life. She knew that this act Salin was putting on was not his true self. Perhaps it was because he coped with the destruction of his home differently. When she broke free from the Lich King's control like the rest of the Forsaken, she accepted what had happened and moved on. Perhaps her old friend was still holding onto some old memory that he refused to let go of.

Two Forsaken soldiers came to the two, and grabbed the ends of the stretcher Salin was on. They lifted him up in the air and carried him away. Belara only stared as her old friend was taken away, shaking her head. She wanted to find out what was wrong, but knew that he would only tell when he was ready. For now, all she could do was look out after the Blood Knight. Despite their differences, Belara did consider Salin to be one of her closest friends. He would reveal everything soon. Maybe it will be a few years or perhaps to someone else, but the Blood Knight will have to tell his secret soon.

For now though, Belara needed to forget about personal matters for the time. Around her, more tents were being taken down as the wounded were almost ready to make the journey back to Thrallmar. She would meet up with Oliktalv there, and moving on, they would begin to work on fighting new battles on this world. Thinking about it, the only good that came of Salin's injury was that the orc commander would be left with no choice but to trust Belara now. The dark ranger would be certain to prove her worth and to show that she is a capable leader. She supposed the best way to start was with the march back. She walked away from the center of the camp. There would be change in the coming battles, and Belara would be ready for them.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey everyone. Sorry for the short chapter this time around. I've been exhausted for the last few days, but I knew that I would have to finish writing this chapter. I'm thinking it may be a bit rushed, but it is time to move the direction of the story towards Kargath and the Fel Horde. However, I shall not be able to update the story on Tuesday due to personal reasons. I shall get back to writing starting Thursday and everything should be back on schedule. That is until I go on vacation in a few weeks, but we'll cover that when we get there.**

 **As always, keep on reading. Until next time.**


	13. Deathrunner

Once more, Oliktalv found himself outside of Thrallmar, looking upon the desolate and corrupted land. So much had changed in the last three weeks since the successful battle at the Legion Front. The Burning Legion remained, but for now, they were the lesser of the two evils. Now, it was time to bring down the Fel Horde. Being reinforced with more orcish warriors, Oliktalv led his men in multiple successful battles against the tainted orcs. It would only be a matter of time until they stormed into Hellfire Citadel, the stronghold of the Fel Horde. Yet, he knew that it would be a vicious and bloody battle, so he took steps to ensure that when the time came, the mighty fortress would fall.

Every two days, a raiding party would leave Hellfire Citadel, ready for battle. It took a few hours, but eventually, Oliktalv gave them the battle they sought. His forces met the warband head on, distracting the fel orcs from the trap. As the battle drew out, Belara would lead her soldiers in a flanking attack against the rear of the raiding party. The fel orcs were crushed with ease, earning the Horde another victory. While Oliktalv was not fond of such a strategy, he did admit that it was working. While Salin recovered from his injuries, Belara proved herself as an efficient leader, being the one to bring up this plan. Because of her plan, Hellfire Citadel was slowly weakening from the lack of fel orcs.

Yet, the plan was starting to fall apart. A lone fel orc was able to survive the first ambush and escaped from death. Oliktalv knew this because he fought against the orc before he ran off. He did not give chase, figuring that if the warrior returned to Hellfire Citadel, he would be struck down for his defeat and cowardly ways. Yet, this orc proved to be very sly, and instead of returning to the fortress, joined the next raiding party to inform them of the trap. Oliktalv and Gour would fight against this orc only to have him escape with each time. After their last confrontation, Gotur dubbed the coward "Deathrunner." Deathrunner needed to die as the raiding parties were starting to adapt because of his advice.

With Deathrunner escaping each time Oliktalv and Gotur tried to fight him, it was clear that he was not going to fall as a warrior. Consulting Belara, they came to a conclusion that a coward like him did not deserve to die in battle. Instead, he would fall as a victim to an assassin. So, after the last battle with a raiding party, Dal'bin was sent to track down and kill Deathrunner before he has a chance to react. Although the troll was mainly used as a scout, Oliktalv figured that with his rifle, he was perfect for the job. So, when given the order, Dal'bin did not show any hesitation as he ran off.

That was two days ago, and he still has yet to return. Oliktalv worried for his friend, hoping that he did not send him to his death. Dal'bin was cautious, yet it was possible everyone underestimated Deathrunner. His cowardism was hiding his cleverness. As he woke up this morning, it became clear that the scout was missing. So, Oliktalv decided to send Gotur along with a band of raiders to search for him and possibly deal with Deathrunner. With two of his trusted allies gone along with several of his men, he decided to let one raiding party escape for once. Hearing a cough behind him, Oliktalv turned his head to see Belara. He was still stunned at her stealth. It scared him knowing that his senses were not enough to detect the dark ranger.

"So, still no sign of Dal'bin?" Belara asked.

"Nothing," Oliktalv answered with a grunt. "He had his orders: track Deathrunner down, kill him and return to Thrallmar. Something must of happened to him."

"Well, perhaps he's still tracking down his target," Belara suggested. "This Deathrunner is very clever."

"He's a coward who leaves his fellow warriors just so he can survive," Oliktalv told her, turning around to face her.

"Sometimes running to fight another day is better than fighting to the death," Belara said.

"Speaking from personal experience?" Oliktalv asked, smirking. "Although it seems that he is more successful than you were."

"I may let Salin get away with those jokes, but I'm not letting you get away," Belara threaten coldly. "I did not run when the Scourge invaded Quel'thalas, and I paid the price for that. Had I fled and survived, then perhaps I could help my former kingdom rebuild. Yet, I've found my place with the Forsaken now."

"Forgive me for joking then," Oliktalv apologized. "But, now that I think of it, you never really told me much about your life before dying."

"There isn't much to tell," Belara said. "I served with the Farstriders as a captain. I helped fend off against the Amani during the Second War. I also fought against the Scourge years after that, but you can see how well that went."

"And what of your life outside of the military?" Oliktalv asked.

"That doesn't matter," Belara told him.

"Well, if you're not interested in telling me, then perhaps I shall ask Salin instead," Oliktalv offered. "Perhaps he is willing to tell me what you won't."

"Go ahead," Belara said, shrugging. "Good luck getting a serious answer out of him though."

"Well, I shall be sure to ask him when he is cleared for duty tomorrow," Oliktalv said, grinning.

Truth be told, Oliktalv was somewhat glad that Salin was returning to the fight. After several of his bones were broken during the battle at Legion Front, he was forced to rest and recover from that incident. The Blood Knight would of been of great aid in the recent battles, but that is not why the commander was glad to have him back. Oliktalv was certain that while he was busy worrying over his friends, Salin would try to lighten the situation with one of his foolish jokes. It may be enough to take his mind off of Deathrunner for the time.

"So, now that we've had this friendly conversation, why are you here?" Oliktalv asked. "I doubt you came here to talk about if Dal'bin is back or not."

"You're right," Belara told him. "I've had scouts tracked the raiding party that was sent out today. The good news is that they're not heading our way. They have chosen to travel south instead."

"Honor Hold is south," Oliktalv said.

"Yes, so it's the Alliance's problem now, not ours," Belara said, shrugging.

"The Fel Horde is our problem, Belara." Oliktalv told her. "Sooner or later, we will have to siege Hellfire Citadel, and I wouldn't mind having some help in doing so."

"We don't need the Alliance's help to take Hellfire Citadel," Belara said coldly.

"I know, but I am just leaving the possibility of it open should things change," Oliktalv said.

Oliktalv wanted to ask the Alliance to help with the upcoming siege. The Fel Horde is a problem to both factions much like the Burning Legion was. It only made sense for them to unite to take down the fel orcs. Yet, when he found out about what really happened at the Legion Front, Nazgrel gave Oliktalv a warning: do not contact the Alliance again or face punishment. It was not just his superior who disapproved of the union. Both Belara and Gotur shown their distaste in working with the Alliance. Gotur did not wish to share the glory of battle with a human while Belara believed the Horde could overcome the Fel Horde themselves. Even though the partnership was beneficial to both sides, it would not be happening again anytime soon.

Oliktalv turned his head back towards the desolate desert upon hearing a loud howl in the distance. He smiled to himself, seeing wolf riders approaching Thrallmar with a cloud of dust following behind. Gotur must of found Dal'bin by now, and with Deathrunner out of the way, everything would go back to normal. He walked up to the dirt path leading to Thrallmar's gates, waving towards the raiders as they passed. Belara followed closely behind the commander, crossing her arms.

Time seemed to slow down as Gotur, the lead rider, rode past them. His faced showed urgency, not reacting to his friend's wave. Oliktalv's jaw dropped as he realized that Gotur was not riding alone. Tied onto his wolf was Dal'bin, and the commander got a clear look at the scout's face as the wolf rode past him. He was beaten badly, bruises covering his face as his eyes were closed. As Gotur rode into Thrallmar, Oliktalv quickly tried to follow him only to be pulled back by Belara, saving him from being trampled by the rest of the wolves.

"Let go of me!" Oliktalv ordered as he pushed Belara's hand off of his arm.

"Just wait a moment," Belara told him. "You'll be able to see him soon, so try not to get yourself killed in the meantime."

Oliktalv grunted at Belara's words, the riders now gone into Thrallmar. He quickly ran away, heading straight for the barracks. Belara sighed, following closely behind the commander. If Dal'bin was still alive, he would be taken to see a healer. Oliktalv was certain that his friend was still alive. The scout was a survivalist and it would take more than a cowardly fel orc to bring him down. As they entered, they searched the different rooms for the troll. Eventually, they found Gotur leaning next to a door, nodding towards the two as they walked to him.

Oliktalv caught a quick glance into the room, seeing Dal'bin resting on a bed. His chest armor was gone and a cloth blanket covered his lower body. On his chest were long lines of burn marks. There were plenty of these scars around his body as an elderly, orcish shaman tended to him, calling upon the elements to heal the scout. Oliktalv's hand formed into a fist at the sight of Dal'bin. The burn marks on his body were not the result of a battle. Deathrunner or whoever did this must of gotten the upperhand, captured the troll, and sadistically tortured him. It was a miracle that the troll was able to escape.

"We found him dragging himself across the land," Gotur reported. "He was beaten, burnt, stripped of all of his armor, and near death. When I brought him on my wolf, he was already out cold. I did not see any signs of a battle and could not tell how far Dal'bin had been dragging himself from wherever this happened.

"How interesting," Belara commented. "Why not finish the job? He's already at the mercy of whoever did this."

"Deathrunner will pay for this," Oliktalv said, gritting his teeth.

"For all we know, it might not be Deathrunner who did this to him," Gotur told him. "There are other fel orcs roaming the land, and the Burning Legion still has a small presence in the land. Yet, I could not find his rifle, so it is anyone's guess on how much of a fight he was able to put up."

"Well, whoever did this to him will pay!" Oliktalv corrected himself.

"That is if this is torture," Belara said, staring at Dal'bin.

"This is clearly torture," Oliktalv told her. "What else could it possibly be?"

"Well, fire is usually too uncontrollable to use in torture without magic," Belara answered. "Now, assuming that Deathrunner is the one who tortured him, he knew no magic. There seem to be no brand marks on him, so that rules out torture."

"Then how do you explain the burn marks?" Gotur asked.

"There's only one scenario I can think of," Belara explained. "Dal'bin got into a fight and was badly injured. His opponent left him for dead, but someone else found him. Seeing him bleeding from those cuts, they cauterized his wounds and left."

"There are so many holes with that story," Oliktalv told her.

"I know," Belara replied. "There's also a possibility that whoever did this knows that a troll can regenerate from their wounds. Cauterization prevents the cuts from recovering properly. The Farstriders tried a similar method against the Amani once, but it was ineffective against trolls who could fight back. Yet, I do not believe Dal'bin was in any position to fight back at the time."

"Now, going off of the second idea, would the fel orcs know about his regeneration?" Gotur asked, curious.

"It's highly unlikely," Belara answered. "Truth be told, I am not sure if a native of this side of the portal knows. Whoever did this must be from Azeroth."

Oliktalv listened to the two talk as he stared towards Dal'bin. He accepted the fact that his wounds were cauterized. Whether it was to help him or harm him was the question, but that is not what they should be focusing on. The true threat is the man who fought Dal'bin in the first place: Deathrunner. Oliktalv made a mistake underestimating the fel orc. Perhaps his foe knew it would be only a matter of time until other methods were taken to remove him from the fight. Yet, the commander was not certain if Deathrunner was still alive. The only person who knew his fate as well as the individual responsible for the cauterization was out cold right now. Oliktalv hated it, but all he could do was wait.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the long wait, folks. It took me awhile to find and review my notes for the rough draft of Broken World. Yet, we are now onto the next act of the story. I really have nothing else to say for now other than that over a thousand people have read through Broken World according to the traffic graph. I'm honestly not sure if this is as big as an achievement as I think it is, but I feel like it's worth celebrating.**

 **Until next time.**


	14. Shattered Blade

Balthar smiled as he held onto the reins of his horse, Caspian, as he and three dozen knights rode away from Honor Hold. Even though he was riding to battle a band of fel orcs that Finnal reported were heading straight for the stronghold, he could not help but enjoy himself today. Growing up in Westfall, he learned how to ride horses at a young age and because of his skill, he was able to stay around the front rank of knights. Being on a new world was making him homesick, but he was not anymore. Riding horses reminded Balthar of the home he missed. Yet, this was not the main reason on why he was so joyful today.

For the first time ever since coming to this world, Balthar was not under the supervision of Gregory. When Kelvin concluded that the logical course of action would be to send mounted knights against the raiders, the commander decided it would be best for the tactician and Naur to lead the knights together. When questioned, he admitted that he could not fight while riding a horse and would instead prepare a battalion at Honor Hold should the knights failed. After the announcement, Balthar begged his mentor to let him accompany the knights, and Gregory agreed only if he could mount his horse while armored. Secretly, he wished to see the look on the commander's face when he got on top of Caspian with ease. Yet, with the knights just about to leave, he knew he could not waste anytime fooling around and quickly rode off to join the others.

Balthar was proud for being able to stand up to Gregory in such a way. He only wished he could do so again to tell him that he wanted end their training. In the last few weeks since he came upon that decision, he tried finding the perfect time to tell Gregory. Yet, his mentor was more focused on training than he was talking, so there was no perfect time. So, Balthar instead tried to tell Naur he wished to become a priest. He was certain that if the draenei spoke to Gregory, they could come to an arrangement. Yet, each time he tried talking with the vindicator, he became so lost in their deep conversations that he forgot. He prayed that if they both survived this battle, he would finally be able to have that talk with his friend.

Balthar was able to spot Naur leading the pack alongside Kelvin. Although, by looking upon his friend, he realized that even if he was not at the front, it would be easy to spot him. With the vindicator being so big, it proved to be a challenge to ride a horse. The draenei rode rather awkwardly, unable to keep still while seated on the saddle. Kelvin rode his blue mechanostrider next to Naur. Unlike his fellow leader, he was able to ride with ease much like the knights were. As the band of knights continued riding, Balthar overheard a conversation they shouted to each other so they could hear one another.

"I have a bad feeling about this!" Naur commented. "Shouldn't we have come upon the fel orcs by now?"

"By my calculations, we passed the spot where the battle should of took place!" Kelvin informed him.

"Perhaps the caught wind of this and decided to retreat?" Naur suggested.

"That is highly unlikely!" Kelvin told him. "These are orcs we're talking about. They do not run from a challenge like this! Not to mention I ordered Finnal to continue spying upon them after she gave her report! The minute something happened, she would of told us!"

"Then how do you explain Finnal and the raiders being missing?" Naur asked.

"To be honest, I am not sure!" Kelvin admitted.

"And I thought that someone of your intelligence had the answer to everything!" Naur said, chuckling.

"And I thought someone of your age would have learned to ride a horse by now!" Kelvin shot back, unamused.

"Age?" Balthar shouted towards the two. "What do you mean by that, sir?"

"Do not worry about it for now, my friend!" Naur advised. "We shall talk about it when we both return to Honor Hold!"

Balthar smiled warmly as he nodded towards Naur. He was able to arrange for another meeting with the vindicator. Now, he just had to be certain he would remember to ask his question and not get lost in conversation again. By now, Honor Hold was no longer in sight of the knights. There were no landmarks to tell them where they were now. Balthar held tightly onto the reins of Caspian, growing nervous. Perhaps the fel orcs were preparing for an ambush on the knights before beginning an assault on Honor Hold. As much as he loved to ride, he knew that he was not ready for a fight.

Kelvin raised his fist in the air, signalling for the knights to stop and dismount. Balthar pulled back on Caspian's reins, stopping his gallop as he thought about why they were stopping. Had the fel orcs been seen, they would be riding into battle. Yet, as he dismounted his horse and walked towards the gnome with the other knights, his jaw dropped down at the horrific scene that was ahead of them. From top of a hill, they looked down upon the fel orcs. The raiders had been slaughtered.

Dozens of fel orcs were scattered around the ground, their dark red blood standing out from the light orange soil. Even their wolvish mounts did not survive the massacre. Looking at the scene, Balthar started to pick out some of the smaller details of the battle. The fel orcs tried to surround their foe in a circle. The tactic usually worked, but it failed this time around. Yet, he noticed that only those who were part of the inner circle were bleeding. Those towards the edges did not bleed at all. To add to the mystery, there were only corpses of the fel orcs and wolves, but none of their foe. He gulped, unsure of what to think of what he saw.

"By the Light," Balthar whispered to himself.

"Everyone, spread out and search for clues!" Kelvin ordered, still seated atop his mechanostrider.

"Clues on what?" a knight in the background asked. "It's plain to me that this was just a battle."

"It was a battle," Naur confirmed, dismounting his horse clumsily. "Yet, who fought the fel orcs is the question. The Horde was reported to no longer be in this area, and this doesn't seem to be the work of the Burning Legion. If we are dealing with a new faction, we must figure out its motives and determine if they are friend or foe."

"Exactly," Kelvin agreed. "Now, stop standing around and start searching for clues!"

The knights nodded, muttering amongst themselves as they started to walk downhill. Balthar followed them, already knowing what he was going to investigate. The knights were not so focused as to look for clues when they reached the bottom of the hill. They were warriors who were ready for battle and did not believe this to be part of their job. So, they just walked around the scene, occasionally kicking a corpse or two. Balthar was more focused on investigating the corpses of those away from the battle. He knelt down next to a fel orc, his face buried into the ground. Since he did not see any noticeable injuries on his back, the man flipped the corpse over.

Looking upon the fel orc's face, or what was left of it, made it easy to determine what killed the raider. His face was burnt off by fire. Most of the skin was gone, only a few patches of it remaining on the visible skull. Along with the sight, the smell of burnt flesh entered his nostrils. He took a few steps back, taking a deep breath before tripping over something. He fell onto his back, starting to cough as he tried to hold his stomach in. He rolled back onto his chest, pushing himself up to his hands and knees as he tried to control his breathing. Yet, he could not get the sight of that skull out of his head.

"Peace, my friend." Naur tried soothing as he walked up to the young man, offering a hand. "This isn't a place for the weak of stomach. It may be best if you join Kelvin on top of the hill."

"Not yet," Balthar told his friend, taking the draenei's hand. "I may be onto something. It's just so hard to think after what I saw."

"Then allow me to help you," Naur offered, pulling him up from the ground and onto his feet. "It seems that we're the only two taking this investigation seriously, so why not work together?"

"Yes, you're right," Balthar agreed, smiling weakly.

"So, what did you find?" Naur asked.

"That fel orc over there had his face burnt off," Balthar started, pointing his thumb back in its general direction so he would not have to look at it again.

"So, whoever fought the fel orcs knew how to use magic," Naur concluded, his eyes focused on the corpse. "That is the best way to control something as dangerous as fire."

"Agreed, but how does that help us find out who did this?" Balthar asked, uncertain.

"Well, I believe that clue has been underneath us all this time," Naur said, smiling as his eyes glanced towards the ground.

Balthar followed Naur's gaze, staring towards the ground between them. Buried in the dirt, he could see a small spark of metal. He remembered that he tripped over something, and realized that this must of been it. He got down on his knees, slowly uncovering the dirt as he reached for the metal. Pulling it free from the ground, he studied it. It was part of a sword, the tip and edge of it remaining sharp, coated with blackish blood. Yet, the other side of it was more jagged than sharp. The only conclusion to explain it was that it was broken from the hilt during battle.

"The fel orcs do not use swords, right?" Balthar asked as he stood up, holding the metal for Naur to see.

"It is possible, but very unlikely," Naur answered, studying it. "This metal is not one I've seen during my time on this world before it shattered."

"So, the man who did this must of been from Azeroth," Balthar concluded. "Yet, I still find it hard to believe that a single man could do so much damage with only a sword and magic."

"I believe it to be possible," Naur told him. "It just means that whoever did this is incredibly powerful and deadly. Come, let us see if we can find the other half of the sword."

The two walked closer to the center of the battle, now studying the corpses slain by the blade. Most of them were killed with a single slash, and it was hard to find one who was stabbed to death. Eventually, Naur found a raider who was stabbed to death, which was very obvious. A hilt to the sword was buried deep into the left eye of the fel orc. Naur knelt down by the corpse, grasping the hilt as he pulled up, freeing it with a single pull. He wiped some of the wet blood and brain from the broken half, and approached Balthar. They held the jagged edges of their pieces together, connecting the sword. It was a perfect match.

"Well, it's good that we have the full blade, but it still doesn't tell us who did this." Balthar said, looking at the blade.

"Yes, but there are symbols on the hilt of the blade," Naur said, motioning to a symbol on the hilt: a curved blue L with a blade going through it. "Do you recall seeing this symbol anywhere, Balthar?"

"It does look familiar, but I cannot recall where I know it from," Balthar answered, disappointed. "Perhaps Kelvin will know. He would be the type of gnome to know about this, wouldn't he?"

"Perhaps," Naur said, uncertain. "It will not hurt to ask, however. Let us be off."

The two walked uphill again as Balthar studied the shattered blade. Asides from the symbol on the hilt, there was an ornate design sketched upon the blade. He could not find the significance of the design, but he knew that he saw this sword somewhere before. Yet, he could not remember where. Balthar sighed in defeat as they made it to the top of the hill. He smiled lightly as he saw Finnal talking to Kelvin, who was still sitting on top of his mount. After what he witnessed, he feared the worst. As they approached the two, he was able to catch the end of their conversation.

"So, you cannot track down a single man?" Kelvin asked, annoyed.

"I'm sorry, sir, but he is covering his tracks quite well," Finnal informed him. "I did see a man staring at the raiders from the west when I found them, but I thought nothing of it at the time."

"We found a clue," Naur announced as Balthar showed the two pieces of the blade to everyone."

"A broken weapon is a clue?" Finnal asked, confused.

"H-hold on," Kelvin told everyone, staring at the blade in shock as his voice cracked slightly. "I think I know what that is. Let me take a closer look."

"Very well," Naur said, nodding to Balthar to give the pieces away.

Balthar slowly took a few steps forward towards Kelvin, holding the metal out to the gnome. Without hesitating, the gnome quickly grabbed the broken sword, looking at the pieces as his hands shook. He was surprisingly out of character for once. The tactician was alway calm and collected. Even when his composure was broken, he was always quick to resume it and act as if nothing happened. Yet, it seemed that Kelvin was nervous or perhaps afraid of something. Before Balthar could figure it out, the gnome muttered something under his breath, but no one was able to make out any words.

"Are you trying to say something, sir?" Balthar asked. "Is something wrong about the blade?"

"There has to be something wrong with it," Finnal noted. "You've been shaking ever since you saw it."

"That's because only six of its kind exist," Kelvin told them, composing himself as he held back his shaking.

"Only six exist?" Naur asked, uncertain. "What makes you think that?"

"It's a rather long story," Kelvin started. "You see, after the Second War, six soldiers were declared honorary knights of Lordaeron for their service and their feats, which separated them from their fellow soldiers. They were each presented with a blade with the symbol of Lordaeron," he pointed towards the letter on the hilt, "as well as a special, ornate engraving," he then motioned towards the engraving covered in blood. "I took part in the ceremony as I gave the blade to one of the soldiers."

"So, was this the blade you gave away?" Finnal asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"I'm afraid not," Kelvin answered. "I gave Gregory his sword for his outstanding leadership during the war."

"Gregory has a blade like this as well?" Balthar asked as he tried remembering his sparring sessions with his mentor.

"Not only him, but your father also was also awarded with similar honors for his duty of protecting townsfolk and injured soldiers on several occasions," Kelvin told him. "I am honestly surprised that you had to come to me to figure out the origins of the blade."

Balthar took a step back in shock. He was able to clearly remember the blade Gregory used in their sparring sessions, and it was an exact copy of this shattered blade, minus the dried orc blood. Yet, he could not recall seeing such a weapon back home. Perhaps his father was not as boasting of it as he should of been. Still, Balthar realized that maybe his father would be disappointed in the path he was going to take. Yet, he would also be disappointed at his son's progress as a soldier. There was no winning in this situation.

"What of the other four who were awarded?" Naur asked, stroking the tendrils on his chin. "Are they here on Outland or know magic?"

"All of them are on Azeroth last I saw, and they know no magic," Kelvin reported as he pocketed the blade pieces inside of his jacket. "I shall be trying to find out who this blade belongs to when we get back to Honor Hold. For now, we should make our way back now. Finnal, send word to the knights to tell them to mount up. I want us to be gone from here in five minutes."

"I'm on it," Finnal said, walking down the hill.

"Well, I look forward to our conversation once you are done training with Gregory," Naur told Balthar, smiling warmly.

"As do I," Balthar replied, returning the smile.

Balthar walked back to Caspian, pulling himself onto the saddle as he started to think about the events that took place. He turned his head and thoughts away from the massacre, wishing he could wipe his memory clean of that sight. While he was proud that his father was more than just a simple soldier during the Second War, he knew that would not change his mind. He still planned on training as a priest under Naur. He just needed to ask the draenei before he could tell Gregory. Thinking back on the shattered sword, Balthar could not help but think Kelvin was not telling the whole story. He believed it all, but there was something the gnome was hiding. Since he did not have any evidence to support this claim, there was nothing he could do about it. He sighed as the remaining knights mounted their horses, hoping that someone else would be able to solve this mystery. With a wave of his arm, Naur signalled for the knights to return to Honor Hold. The horses galloped away from the battle as Balthar hoped he would not have nightmares over what he saw.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey everyone. This is just an announcement that I shall be leaving on vacation tomorrow. So, my schedule for Broken World will be different. I do plan on trying to post at least one chapter during this time. I may of made a similar progress months ago during Spring Break, but I had no access to the internet at that time. This time, I am returning to a beach I've been to before, and I am staying in the exact same house as I did last year. If things go as they did last year, I will be staying up late at night due to the caffeine that's keeping me awake (For such a wonderful house, the bed I had was small and hard as stone). So I do not disturb the rest of my family during the night, I may be able to find some computer time on a laptop. As for the car ride, it will be a perfect time to write the rough draft for another Warcraft fanfiction.**

 **As always, keep on reading. Until next time.**


	15. The Message (Part One)

Belara lost track of time while she was waiting for Dal'bin to wake up. At first, it was all three of them were waiting inside of his room. Yet, Oliktalv left to train his warriors for the next battle. Since Nazgrel was forbidding him from working with the Alliance again, the commander was training his soldiers harder. The dark ranger was finally glad that her superior was finally working for his goal rather than taking a short cut. She believed that asking for help whenever there is an obstacle makes for a bad leader.

Gotur remained seated on the only stool in the room as Belara leaned up against a wall facing the troll scout. After Oliktalv left, the other orc started to complain about Dal'bin taking too long to wake up. These complaints continued until a grunt handed Gotur a letter silently. After reading it, silence fell upon the room as he did not bother to tell her what the letter was about. He held the paper crunched up in his fist, staring down at the floor with a troubled look on his face. Belara had to admit that she was curious about what could cause an impatient warrior who cares only for battle to become so deep in thought.

"As much as I love the silence, I want answers," Belara demanded, looking towards Gotur. "What's on that piece of paper you got."

"It's nothing," Gotur answered, not turning to meet her gaze.

"You can trust me if it's something bad," Belara told him. "I can keep a secret better than anyone here."

"It's nothing," Gotur repeated.

"Well, if you're going to be like that, then maybe I should get going," Belara said.

"We have our orders," Gotur told her harshly.

"And Salin is resting two rooms ahead," Belara informed him. "I'm certain Oliktalv wouldn't mind if I talked to my injured friend."

"You're bluffing," Gotur said.

"Am I now?" Belara asked, raising an eyebrow. "Please, go on."

"Salin has been stuck in that room for weeks," Gotur started. "As a warrior, he must be itching to get back into the action. So, you're lying when you say he is resting."

"I think charging an infernal makes for a rather foolish warrior," Belara argued.

"It only makes you a fool if you cannot defeat your opponent," Gotur countered.

"So, you are implying that Salin is a foolish warrior then?" Belara asked.

"I am," Gotur answered, smiling weakly.

Although he gave his answer seriously, Belara had to hold back laughter. As much as she enjoyed making fun of Salin, she realized that there was some truth to Gotur's words. Even during her time as a Farstrider, she noticed Salin never really thought ahead during that fight. Unlike now, he was a model soldier back then. One trait stuck with the Blood Knight, and that was his lack of fear. Still, he needed to learn not to tackle huge enemies by himself. She thought the abomination that placed him out of action would give that lesson. Either it failed to teach him that or he forgot about it during the years that follow.

"So, will you tell me now?" Belara asked again.

"It's nothing," Gotur answered, his smile fading away.

"Fine, be that way," Belara said coldly as she walked towards the door. "If you need me, I'm pretty sure I'll hear your shouting."

"Wait!" Gotur called out, briefly raising his head. "I'm sorry about earlier. I'm just not use to this."

"What's the problem?" Belara asked, turning her head to face the orc.

"Nazgrel wants to meet with me," Gotur told her. "I'll be heading to the hold tonight."

"You're making a big deal out of this?" Belara asked harshly. "Meeting a superior isn't a big deal unless you're advancing up the ranks."

"I wouldn't be too surprised if that was the case," Gotur replied, looking down at the floor again.

Belera was certainly surprised and tried her best to look joyful at the news. Yet, she hated the idea of having Gotur in any leadership position. Although he used brute force as his main weapon, he was still an efficient warrior. Yet that did not make him a good warrior. He was not qualified to be Oliktalv's right hand man and he was certainly not qualified to be a rank higher than his brother in arms. Yet, looking at the pain and troubled look on the orc's face, the dark ranger concluded that there was more to this than meets the eye.

"What's the catch?" Belera asked.

"If it is what I think it is, the catch is me replacing Oliktalv," Gotur answered.

"Well, no offense to you, but I think we're better off with Oliktalv in charge." Belara admitted. "We didn't get along at first with us working for the Alliance, but ever since we've been working with the Fel Horde, he has proven himself to be a capable leader. So, why would Nazgrel want him replaced?"

"It's a long story," Gotur told her as he stood up.

"I'm listening," Belara replied. "It's not like we have anything better to do."

"Oliktalv never told Nazgrel of his plans for the Legion Front," Gotur started. "My brother knew that he would never approve of such a plan. It is no secret that Nazgrel doesn't trust the Alliance. So, when he found out about the battle after it happened, he was furious. He called Oliktalv to meet him at the hold two days after the battle. I was present at that meeting, so I saw it all. I saw them arguing about whether we should be working with the Alliance or not. There were certain moments where I believed they would fight each other with steel rather than words. I was glad everyone walked away unscathed."

"Well, what Oliktalv did was risky, but it did prove to be good for us," Belara admitted. "I am certain that you're being paranoid, but I want to know why you think Nazgrel would replace Oliktalv with you."

"It is because I took Nazgrel's side during the debate," Gotur admitted, a hint of shame in his voice. "After everything I've been through with him, I couldn't take Oliktalv's side. If I am promoted over my brother, it would feel like I stabbed him in the back."

Belara was surprised to find out she was wrong about Gotur. She thought he was only a warrior with all brawn but no brain. Essentially, he was a living weapon. Yet, listening to the orc speak showed a new side of him. The dark ranger now realized that the warrior was more conflicted than she realized. Maybe Gotur took his rage out on his enemies. That would explain why he was always wanting to rush into battle.

What surprised her even more was that the two of them actually had something in common. Usually, they were polar opposites. Gotur was more of a head on fighter while Belara preferred to stay back and wait for the opportunity before striking. Yet, despite their ways and reasons, they both did not want to work with the Alliance. She was not going to ask for the orc's reason on his distrust, but she personally was just trying to move on. She was glad to find her place in the world with the Forsaken after her death and ever since they joined the Horde, she decided to support it fully.

Suddenly, a painful groan was heard from the bed, interrupting her thoughts. They both turned to face Dal'bin, waiting to see if he was going to wake up. His foot twitched slightly underneath his covers as he opened his left eye slowly. After a moment of observation, the troll opened his right eye, coughing as he tried to speak to his two friends.

"Take your time," Belara advised. "You don't want to push yourself too far after what happened."

"But don't you dare fall unconscious again," Gotur warned. "I'm done waiting around for you. I'm ordering for you to stay awake."

"Gotur, that isn't how it works," Belara told him, sighing.

"I need ta see Oliktalv," Dal'bin coughed. "Dere be no time ta waste, mon."

"Well, he's out training right now, so you can tell one of us," Gotur said, crossing his arms.

"Nah, mon," Dal'bin replied. "I need ta see Oliktalv. Salin as well."

Gotur sighed as he stormed out of the room, heading off to find his brother. Belara shrugged lightly as she approached the scout. He leaned forward into a sitting position, groaning in pain loudly. For a moment, she felt sorry for the troll. While the dark ranger fought his kind in her past life, she was moving on from that. She shook her head, figuring that if he was able to survive this torture, he would be able to look after himself. Yet, there was one question on her mind that only he could answer.

"Why do you need to see Oliktalv and Salin?" Belara asked, curious. "That's a very specific request."

"I need ta see da four o' ya together," Dal'bin groaned. "Da message I need ta give be for all o' ya."

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, I know this chapter is a bit of a short one, but it's for the best this way in my opinion. A better explanation for why I am dividing this part into two parts will be posted in the next chapter as I wish to avoid giving spoilers to everyone. Since this is a two parter, I'll be working extra hard to get the second part posted ASAP.**

 **Until next time.**


	16. The Message (Part Two)

_A day passed, and there was still no sign of Deathrunner. Dal'bin was able to track him down right into a cave. He figured that his target was there to rest and knew the best opportunity was to kill him was with to wait until he emerged from the cave. So, the scout found a good spot to wait outside, and kept his rifle aimed on the mouth of the cave. The minute the fel orc poked his head out of his hiding hold, there would be a bullet right between his eyes._

 _Yet, Deathrunner never left the cave. Dal'bin has looked at the cave for hours and his eyes were starting to become tired. If he did not take a break soon, he would surely pass out from exhaustion. Oliktalv explained that Deathrunner was a cunning coward before he sent the scout to kill him. Perhaps this was all a trick planned out by the fel orc. Perhaps he was waiting for Dal'bin to close his eyes and fall asleep before killing him. It would be the only time to strike without being shot down._

 _As he mused on this, he saw something poke out of the cave. Instantly, Dal'bin took aim and pulled the trigger. He did not get a good look at what he shot at, but he knew that the bullet hit its mark. The rock formation of the cave mouth covered it though, so the scout could not determine if it was Deathrunner or just a rock. He was exhausted, so it was possible that he made a mistake and shot a rock thinking it was his target. There was only one way he would be able to find out if Deathrunner had finally met his end._

 _Dal'bin stood up and walked down the hill, heading towards the cave. He could not help but think this was a clever trap, and if it was, there was nothing the scout could do to prepare for the trap. Yet, if Deathrunner's trap fails to kill his hunter, then he was as good as dead. Dal'bin quickly turned at the corner of the rock formation, his rifle aimed in case of an attack. Yet, no attacker came. Instead, a large traveling cloak seemingly covered the fallen Deathrunner. The scout knelt by the cloak, pulling it away slightly as his rifle remained aim at whatever was underneath it. He looked in shock as rocks were revealed to be under the cloak._

 _That was when something sharp slashed down across his back. Dal'bin let out a cry of pain as he fell down, dropping his rifle in front of him. He quickly extended his left hand to grab his weapon only for it to be crushed by a metal boot. As he tried to pull his arm free, an ax started to slowly cut his skin, the sharp edge running across his arm. Dal'bin grimaced in pain at the torture as he prepared himself for what came next. The ax was lifted only to start cutting into his right leg. Dal'bin held back screams of pain, able to hear a deep voice._

" _I will not fall victim to an assassin," Deathrunner spoke, continuing to drag the edge of his weapon across the troll's leg. "You may think of me as a coward, but I'm not. I'm a survivalist. It's funny, but I find more in common with you than my own kind. You're clever just as I am, but not clever enough."_

" _I'm goin' ta kill ya, mon!" Dal'bin spat as he reached for his rifle with his right hand._

" _No you're not," Deathrunner grunted, stabbing his ax down into the troll's arm. "Face it. I outsmarted you. I knew that when you were tired enough, you would make a mistake. So, I slept until then. I only woke up ten minutes ago. Had you enter the cave, you would of been able to kill me with ease. It was a risk I had to take, and it worked. There is such thing as being too clever."_

" _Stop braggin' and kill me already!" Dal'bin demanded._

" _Not yet," Deathrunner told him. "You see, I'm going to make you suffer so much that those who find your corpse will feel your pain. I am going to make an example out of you so that there will be no more assassins sent after me. Now, just relax. I plan on taking my time with you."_

 _There was nothing Dal'bin could do to stop the torture. All he could do was try to block the pain out. He closed his eyes, trying to pass out from exhaustion. Yet, he could not as Deathrunner inflicted more cuts across his body. His arms, his legs, his chest and his back all became victim to the sadist. There were long and narrow cuts that stretched out along with deep and short cuts that were even more painful. Yet, he would not please Deathrunner by screaming in pain. When the torture was over, Dal'bin could only feel pain and the pool of his own blood. He could not open his eyes but heard the fel orc knelt by him. He braced himself for more torture, but it never came._

" _How does it feel to die?" Deathrunner taunted._

" _I still be alive," Dal'bin cough._

" _You hear that, Brak'thur," a new voice chimed in with confidence. "You will still have to live in fear of death for another day."_

" _You!" Deathrunner, or Brak'thur, exclaimed with a hint of fear in his voice._

" _That's right, it's me," the man shot back._

" _Even in my d-darkest nightmares, I never e-expected you to find me again," Brak'thur stuttered, taking a step back. "Are you here to finally kill me?"_

" _Honestly, Brak'thur, I don't give two damns about you," the stranger answered bluntly. "Yet, I need that troll alive, so I'll skip right to the point. You leave now and I'll spare you. If you don't leave, I'll kill you. So, do we have a deal?"_

" _Bah, he's going to die from his wounds anyways," Brak'thur grunted as Dal'bin heard footsteps walking away._

" _Well, Dal'bin, you look like you've been through the Twisting Nether and back," the stranger said, kneeling down by the troll. "I bet the feeling is the same."_

" _I need ta kill Deathrunner," Dal'bin muttered, not processing the words of the stranger._

" _Even when you're on the edge of death, you only care for following orders. I never thought to see such loyalty in a scout," the stranger noted. "Unfortunately, I fear your regeneration will not help you in time. I still need you alive to pass a message along."_

 _Slowly, the stranger started to strip Dal'bin of his armor, only leaving his loincloth on. The troll wished he could resist, but he was in too much pain to fight back. Then, he felt searing pain of a fire slowly glide across his chest directly on one of his injuries. The wound was cauterized, followed by the others, but this was worse than Deathrunner's torture. If there was one thing that Dal'bin was afraid of, it was fire. It was the most common way to stop his regeneration and an easy way to kill one of his kind. He screamed not from the physical pain, but from the mental torture he was going through. It felt like hours have passed when the stranger was finished cauterizing his wounds, and during that time, Dal'bin grew to hate the man. He wanted nothing more than to kill this man for the pain he inflicted. The damage Brak'thur done was but a splinter compared to the fire._

" _You'll live, and, more importantly, stay awake for the message," the stranger announced. "I need you to give this to your superior officers."_

" _I don't take orders from ya," Dal'bin told him._

" _I know," the stranger agreed. "You mainly take orders from Oliktalv Warfury. He fits well inside orcish society except for the ability to think outside of the box. That plan to work with the Alliance was bold and many would disapprove of it, but it worked."_

" _How do ya know dat?" Dal'bin asked in pain._

" _You ask me that now but not when I spoke your name without asking?" the stranger asked, amused. "You sure are focused on the objective at hand."_

" _How do ya know dat?" Dal'bin repeated._

" _Well, I've been watching you and your commanders ever since that battle at the Legion Front," the stranger told him. "I know how they think now."_

" _Prove it." Dal'bin challenged._

" _If you insist," the stranger accepted. "Gotur Bonelash is right below Oliktalv in terms of command, which is a honest surprise. He lacks both the ability to lead and to think of anything asides from battle. Yet, I wouldn't dare try to attack him head on. Instead, I'll believe I would do what Belara Duskblade would do in that situation. She's cold, calculating and the most efficient leader among her superiors. Yet, in the Horde, her plans are often shot down in favor of a more honorable one. Perhaps that's how Salin Sunwrath was able to secure his command. He's got a good heart, but his mind is fractured, likely from a battle that went south. That's why he always jokes around. He cannot cope with the reality of his life and the minute he takes anything seriously will be the day he finally breaks down. Now, have I proven myself, or shall I go on about the Alliance commanders?"_

 _Dal'bin remained silent, only nodding. He was honestly surprised by what this stranger knew. Every word he spoke was the truth. The scout realized how dangerous this man was. He was able to spy upon both the Alliance and Horde to get what he wanted. He hated to play this game, but knew that whoever this man was, he was going to get what he wanted. Dal'bin wished he had the strength to reach for his rifle and shoot his savior straight through his twisted heart. He wanted to be selfish for once to do what he desired._

" _Now, I take your silence as confirmation," the stranger continued. "Tell your commanders that I shall be waiting for them where it started."_

" _I'm goin' ta kill ya, mon," Dal'bin told him weakly, spitting at his feet._

" _I'm expecting you to try," the stranger replied, walking off._

 _Dal'bin tried dragging himself after the sounds of his footsteps. It would only be seconds before he passed out from pain and exhaustion, but seconds were all he needed to snap this man's neck. He got up onto his hands and toes, kicking off into a sprint. It only lasted for a few seconds before the scout fell onto the ground, groaning in pain. He cursed the stranger as his mind slowly fell unconscious. His final thoughts were that he failed to kill both Deathrunner and the stranger._

* * *

"After I woke up, I knew dat I needed ta get ta Thrallmar. I dragged myself away until Gotur found me, and here we are," Dal'bin concluded.

The room fell silent as he finished his story. Dal'bin could tell that everyone in the room was in deep thought. Even Gotur had his eyes closed in thought as he remained sitting on his stool. Oliktalv was behind him, pacing as Belara looked down at the ground as she leaned up against the wall. Salin, his left arm in a sling, looked up towards the ceiling as he started whispering to himself. Dal'bin dared not break the silence, figuring it was the responsibility of one of the commanders to do so.

"Well, it looks like we have a crazy fanatic stalking us now," Salin said, finally breaking the silence. "I knew it was only going to be a matter of time until someone followed me around, but I never thought it would happen to any of you."

"Salin, I swear to the ancestors, but if you open your mouth again and say anything that stupid again, you'll wish that the infernal killed you," Gotur grunted, standing up to face the Blood Knight.

"Easy there, big guy," Salin tried to calm the orc down. "I'm merely trying to lighten the mood."

"Well, it isn't helping at all," Gotur told him, standing inches away from Salin. "The only thing that'll calm me down is killing the bastard who has been spying on us!"

"Stand down, Gotur!" Oliktalv ordered. "We're dealing with a master manipulator here. He's waiting for all of us to confront him, so that is the last thing we want is to do exactly what he's trying to get us to do."

"Then what do you propose we do?" Gotur asked.

"I am not too sure, but I know someone in this room already has a plan," Oliktalv answered, turning his head to Belara. "You've been silent for far too long. What are your thoughts on this?"

"I am with Salin on this, actually," Belara admitted. "Whoever is doing this must enjoy the Alliance and Horde working together. He enjoys it so much that he wants to see it happen again."

"I told you!" Salin bragged, grinning. "That being the case, he must be at that old stadium."

"Where I met with the commanders of the Alliance to unite to face the Burning Legion," Oliktalv realized. "I would say that we leave him be and ignore him, but he's too dangerous to roam the lands free. We shall be focusing on taking this man in."

"I'll rally the raiders," Gotur said. "He won't know what hit him until it's too late."

"Nah, mon," Dal'bin interrupted. "Give me a rifle and I'll take him down. I got a score ta settle with dat man."

"That's out of the question," Oliktalv told him. "You are going to rest here and that's an order. Do I make myself clear?"

Dal'bin glared at the commander, nodding slowly. He has never asked for anything from his superiors and has followed every order given. He deserves a little personal time to end the stranger's life. The scout could endure the pain he was going through just to make sure that he paid for this. He knew that the stranger did saved Dal'bin's life by cauterizing, but that would not sate his rage. Only the stranger collapsing from a shot from his rifle would be enough to quell his anger. Yet, it would seem that Oliktalv was not going to let it happen. He never knew hatred that the troll had now.

"Dal'bin has a point," Belara admitted. "Why should we waste resources hunting this coward down when one man could easily end his life?"

"Are you volunteering?" Oliktalv asked, uncertain.

"I am," Belara answered with confidence. "He knows of the Horde and its ways. He is expecting for us to attack him with whatever forces we have. This may catch him off guard."

"Make it quick," Oliktalv ordered. "Everyone, return to their previous business. Allow Dal'bin to rest from the torture he faced."

One by one, the commanders poured out of the room, leaving Dal'bin alone on the bed. He was not mad with Oliktalv's or jealous of Belara stealing his rightful kill. He had no reason to be jealous when it was going to be him who killed him. He would let the dark ranger get a small head start on the hunt just so the others would let their guard down. Then, he would sneak out, collect new gear and join the hunt. The scout did not care that by using his worst fear the stranger was going to stay alive. This was a man asking for death, and Dal'bin was going to give him that death. He only regretted that he had no way of inflicting the pain the stranger dealt with the fire, both physically and mentally. At least his new prey would not suffer like he did.

* * *

 **A/N: As promised, a quick update to finish off the two parter, along with an explanation on why it was divided up into two parts. When preparing to do this, I originally planned for it to be one chapter with the flashback in the middle. Yet, after reading a few articles giving advise on how to write using flashbacks, I decided to split this up into two parts. In my opinion, the idea worked well, but if you disagreed, feel free to tell me.**

 **Until next time.**


	17. Logic and Emotion

As he finished writing the list, Kelvin closed his eyes in deep thought. After returning, he immediately headed to his quarters in Honor Hold and locked the door. They previously belonged to an officer of the Alliance Expedition who was, unfortunately, killed shortly after the Dark Portal was opened. Gregory was initially offered the room, but turned it down in favor of bunking with his soldiers in the barracks. So, the room was instead given to his tactician. As much as Kelvin appreciated having his own room, the size of the furniture did not suit his needs. He had to climb the sheets to get to bed and required an extra cushion for his desk's chair just to see over it.

Kelvin opened his eyes, staring down at the list of names. Written on it were six names: Gregory Kell, Matthew Collas, Gerome Derrington, Doyle Varlais, Lorad Stonefist and Colben Sampson. All six men were made honorary knights and given blades such as the shattered one pocketed away in his jacket. Yet, Kelvin remembered the engraving of the sword he carried. He knew exactly who it was given to. Yet, as the tactician thought to himself, he realized that it could not be possible. He had to confirm if what he saw was true or not and the easiest way to do so was process of elimination.

Quill still in hand, Kelvin crossed the first two names on the list. When returning to Honor Hold, he saw Gregory with his sword still in hand. As for Matthew, his fighting days were over and the only reason he would come to this world was to see his son. After a moment of consideration, he crossed out the third name on the list. Gerome lost his left leg during the war, and even with his peg leg, he would not be able to take down dozens of fel orcs. The fourth name was crossed out as Kelvin remembered attending Doyle's funeral nearly a decade ago. After sailing out to sea, his ship was caught in a storm and sunk. His body, and his blade, were never found. He then crossed out the fifth name. Lorad, a dwarven marksman, was never skilled with a blade. Truth be told, the tactician was still unsure of why the dwarf was selected as one of the six.

Only one name remained, and Kelvin was uncertain of whether or not he should cross it out with the others. Colben was a fearless warrior and one of the best swordsman who served under the tactician. Both the skill and the broken blade supported the theory that his old friend was responsible. Yet, Colben never knew how to cast spells, and as good as he was, he was not a one man army. He pulled out the blade, staring down at it. Unlike the other five, there were evidence to support and deny that Colben was responsible. The tactician was still unsure of what to think of it.

A cough broke his train of thought as Kelvin turned to the window, instinctively reaching for his flintlock pistol at his side. Yet, he sighed as he realized it was only Finnal. The elf looked back at the gnome, kicking her legs back and forth as she sat on the window sill. The tactician reminded himself that even with his doors closed, an annoying druid could easily fly through the window. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Apparently, despite breaking into his room, Finnal was waiting for him to start the conversation.

"Can I help you?" Kelvin asked, slightly annoyed.

"Well, will you tell me the truth about the sword?" Finnal asked as she stood up inside.

"I've told you everything I knew of it," Kelvin answered calmly as he lowered his quill. "Now, you best be getting on your way now. Knock the next time you wish to speak with me."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me the truth," Finnal told him. "I know you're lying about the sword."

"You have no evidence to back up your claim," Kelvin replied, standing up on his chair. "Now, please leave my quarters, Finnal. That's a direct order from your superior."

"Actually, I have a witness who is willing to agree with me that you're lying," Finnal said, her lips forming a grin. "Commander Kell sure does love his war stories. Yet, when he told me the one about how he was given his blade, he failed to mention that a bald gnome gave it to him. Instead, he gave it to a different soldier"

Kelvin hid the shock as he realized where Finnal was going with this. He lied, of course, but for good reason. He knew the blade belonged to Colben, but was unsure if it was the man responsible for that massacre. That was his mistake; he was a terrible liar. Finnal saw right through his act and decided to do an investigation of her own. Truth be told, the tactician saw no way of getting out of this except for giving in to her demands. He sighed, defeated as sat back down on his chair.

"What I am about to tell you doesn't leave this room unless I say so," Kelvin told her. "Do you understand?"

"I do," Finnal said with a nod.

"I was present at the ceremony, but I never gave Gregory his sword," Kelvin confessed. "I gave it to another man called Colben Sampson," Kelvin admitted. "He earned his blade through his swordsmanship. His skill was above all who served in my unit back then."

"So, he has the talent to fight all of those fel raiders?" Finnal asked, curious.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," Kelvin admitted. "Normally, no. He could not take on fel orcs of that number nor does he know magic. Yet, there has been something bugging me ever since I found his blade."

"Tell me," Finnal told him. "You're mixing logic with your emotions and that won't give you an answer. I may not be as smart as you, but that doesn't mean I can't help. Maybe all you need is a second mind."

Kelvin sighed to himself as he looked down at the ground. Finnal was right that he was not going to get anywhere with his current thinking. Despite his usual use of logic, he still could not believe that a man such as Colben was responsible. Yet, he did not need help thinking of the answer. The tactician already had one in his mind which seems to be the most logical answer. The problem was he could not accept it. He hoped that Finnal would be able to help him accept the truth.

"Colben has been dead for years," Kelvin finally told her. "The last letter he sent before his death explained that he was following Arthas on his expedition to Northrend. I know he wouldn't run from a fight, so I assumed he met his end on that frozen wasteland."

"Arthas, as in, the Lich King?" Finnal asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

"Indeed," Kelvin answered, looking back at her.

"Then we may dealing with Colben," Finnal muttered. "Kelvin, the man you once knew is no more. Now, he is but a mindless minion of the Scourge. I thought you would have reached that conclusion."

Kelvin nodded, turning away from her gaze. Colben being raised as one of the undead after his death was the only logical reason on why his sword turned up on Outland. Yet, the tactician could not believe that was the fate of his old friend. During the Second War, Colben disobeyed nearly disobeyed all of the tactician's orders. He stated that although the strategies would secure victory, the lives taken would not be worth it. Kelvin was infuriated with Colben's reasoning, but as the man found new ways to secure victory, the gnome started to respect him. So, he could not believe that Colben, a honorable and brave man, would be broken down to a mindless minion to wipe out all life.

Then, there was the question of what the former soldier was doing in Outland. Did the Scourge have any plans for the world beyond the Dark Portal? If so, why only send one man? How did one man manage to inflict so much death upon those raiders? Kelvin tried to push all of these questions away to focus on his logic and the answers he already knew. Colben was undead. The tactician could not deny that. Yet, what if he was not with the Scourge? It would explain why it was only him here and no ghouls or other undead minions. The possibility existed that Colben broke free similar to the Forsaken. If that were the case, then Kelvin knew exactly where he would go.

"We're leaving now, Finnal," Kelvin announced, hopping off his chair. "I have an idea on how we're going to find Colben."

"Care to explain?" Finnal asked.

"I am assuming that Colben has broken free of the Scourge's control, and I could give you the logic on why I think that, but that's not important as of now," Kelvin told her. "What is important is that Colben is a soldier. So, a soldier in a new environment, or in this case, a new world, will try to find as many advantages as he can to survive. So, I believe that he would look for high ground, specifically, to the west."

"There are many old fortifications he could use," Finnal noted.

"My thoughts exactly," Kelvin agreed.

"How do we proceed?" Finnal asked, sitting back down on the window sill.

"Go on without me." Kelvin ordered. "I will need to get my mechanostrider, so it'll take approximately a hour before I arrive in that region of the land. You'll scout and try to find the man from before, but do not engage him battle. Instead, report back to me so we can meet him together. Finally, tell no one of this. The less anyone knows, the better."

Finnal nodded, leaning back off of the window to fall down. After a moment of waiting, she flew back onto the window sill in her bird form. With an approving nod from Kelvin, the druid flew off to the skies. The tactician was still uncertain of her involvement in this. They had little in common, but she was willing to help. The gnome was not willing to ask Gregory or Naur to aid him. As far as he was concerned, this was a personal matter. The only reason Finnal is involved was because she found out the truth.

Kelvin walked towards his door, unlocking it as he stepped outside of his room. He tried to lock his emotions in for the time as he still was not sure of what to make of the situation. He still could not confirm that Colben was free from the Lich King's control. Thinking logically, it would be safe to assume that his old friend was an enemy. Yet, it may be be because of his respect for the former soldier, but the tactician believed that if anyone could break free from the Scourge, it would be him. And once Kelvin reunited with him, Colben would have a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

 **A/N: I apologize in advance for the short chapter. I am back from vacation, but some unexpected has just came up that requires my full attention for the time being. The next update shall be next Tuesday. After which, I plan on getting Broken World completed with the time I have left this summer. Also, I am pleased to announce that after I am finished with this story, I shall be updating a new story on Warcraft while writing the rough draft for the sequel to this. I plan to announce more details about it soon.**

 **Until next time.**


	18. The Stranger Revealed

It would be some time later when Belara arrived at the old stadium. She was in no hurry seeing how her prey was supposedly waiting there so she took time to think about what to do. Oliktalv had sent her out with the intention of eliminating this mysterious stranger but the dark ranger had plans of her own. Despite the threat, she was curious on who this man was. When Dal'bin described the scene, he mentioned that the stranger described each of the Horde's commanders. Yet, he was surprisingly accurate with each description. That might of scared the others knowing that there was a spy among them all this time but it did not phase Belara in the slightest.

So, she decided to go along with the stranger's message and talk to him. Hopefully, the dark ranger would be able to discover the secrets of this man as well as his intentions. The worst case scenario would be if this was an ambush, but it did not matter. Belara already had an escape plan in mind should it come to a fight. With her plan ready, she walked through the tunnel leading into the stadium. She kept her daggers hidden up her sleeves as she expected an attack which never happened.

As Belara entered the stadium, she took note of a small camp set up in the center. A tent was poorly built with various weapons pouring out and a small fire burned. Sitting in between the two wast the stranger. The dark ranger could not make out any details as a hood covered his face. Yet, she could make out the faint outline of old armor that seemed to be covered in rust. Belara saw no weapons on him nor was there anyone else in the arena. So, she carefully walked up to the campfire, sitting down on the other side of it. There was a brief silence between the two before the man coughed, starting the conversation.

"Well, ain't this a surprise," he commented.

"You were expecting all of us, weren't you?" Belara asked, crossing her arms.

"No. Given the circumstance, I assumed that there would be a small force sent to take me in tomorrow," the stranger answered. "I was willing to surrender myself in order to speak at Thrallmar yet I can change my plans. So, why did you risk coming here alone?"

"I'm curious about you," Belara told him. "I always did keep my guard up so when I found out that someone with mysterious intentions has been spying on me without my detection I knew there was trouble."

"Well, I cannot explain my intentions now for we are still waiting on guests," the man explained. "Fear not though. I did see a little bird so they shall be here soon. As for how you never found me, it'll be easier for me to show you."

Slowly, the stranger reached for his hood, slowly lowering it to reveal his face and tattered black hair. It was gray from decay and parts of the skin were rotten. His yellow eyes stared at her with interest as his lips were curled into a smile. Belara hid her surprise as she started to realize the truth behind this man. He was no master spy as Dal'bin led them to believe. He was just a rogue member of the Forsaken or perhaps the Scourge. Regardless, she realized that there was nothing to learn from this man.

"I'm not impressed," Belara sighed in disappointment. "You're rotten enough to blend in with my people and if you can hide behind a helmet, you can blend in with the Alliance as well."

"Oh, I was bluffing about spying on the Alliance," the stranger confessed. "I just happen to know an old friend in there. He's the guest we're waiting for."

"And when will he be arriving?" Belara asked, bored.

"Any minute now, I'd imagine," the stranger replied.

As the stranger answered her question, Belara was able to pick up on faint footsteps coming from the stadium's entrance. She turned her head to see who was coming only to be stunned. Dal'bin limped towards the two dressed in leather armor while carrying his old, wooden spear in his right hand. He glared at the pair as he approached the fire as they stood up. The stranger went back to his tent, scurrying around the things. Belara only looked at the scout in shock. Not only was he very injured last she saw him but was ordered to rest in Thrallmar.

"Dal'bin, you should be resting," Belara said, regaining her composure.

"Shouldn't dat man be dead already?" Dal'bin asked, annoyed. "Dat's why ya be here, mon. Ya be here ta kill him."

"He's not a threat as you claimed," Belara shot back, harshly. "He's just some old hermit."

"An old hermit with a plan!" The man announced, still shuffling through his belongings.

"If ya don't have da guts ta kill him, I will," Dal'bin told her.

"You're forcing my hand," Belara said with a sigh. "You are to stand down now. That's an order."

"Not happenin' mon," Dal'bin stated. "Ya see, dat man be da reason why Deathrunner got away."

"Oh please, you can kill Brak'thur the next time he pokes his head out of a hole," the man said, his back still turned to the intruder.

"You're not helping," Belara muttered under her breath as she pulled out her two daggers. "Dal'bin, I'll admit, it's nice to see you're taking charge for once and disobeying an order. Yet, you crossed the line by disobeying one of my orders. This man isn't responsible for letting your target get away. He's responsible for saving your sorry ass. Now, I am interested to see who this turns out so you will stand down or I will make you."

For a moment, Belara saw the hesitation in Dal'bin's eyes. She had hoped that the troll would see reason and give up on his petty revenge. Then, she saw the hatred return as it burned in his eyes. Nothing was going to stand between the scout and his prey and she knew. Despite her opponent being in pain, the dark ranger knew that she stood no chance fighting him directly. She slowly lowered her daggers as the shuffling behind her stopped. Dal'bin's eyes raised in alarm as the stranger walked to him, now armed with a rifle.

"Dat be mine, mon," Dal'bin said harshly.

"Relax, I was just keeping it safe for you," the stranger replied, tossing the rifle onto the ground in front of the scout much to Belara's surprise. "You see, I'm only trying to help. On this world, there is a threat that the Alliance and Horde do not know about. I seek to bring an end to this threat."

"What are you talking about?" Belara asked as Dal'bin dropped his spear and picked up his rifle.

"I am talking about the Illidari," the stranger answered. "You see, the Fel Horde you serve is only a branch of the Illidari. Cutting off a single branch does not kill a tree. You must go straight for the roots, or in this case, the leader. Yet, I am getting ahead of myself now. We need to wait for my friend before we can truly begin."

Belara blinked at the man, unsure of what to think of his warning. As far as she knew, the Fel Horde was working on its own. Even then, there was more evidence suggesting they were servants to the Burning Legion rather than being part of this unknown faction. Yet so far, the stranger has yet to lie to either of them and was going out of his way to make himself trustworthy. Perhaps it might be worth listening to this stranger afterall. Belara turned her head towards Dal'bin, hoping that he would understand as well. The troll had his gun aimed at the stranger's head, his face lacking any emotion now. She took a step forward, reaching her hand out to the rifle slowly.

Then, a gunshot echoed through the stadium. Yet, much to Belara's surprise, it was Dal'bin who fell to the ground, dropping his rifle. She quickly knelt besides him to find out the troll was alive. His face grimaced in pain as he gritted his teeth. The dark ranger was unable to find out where the bullet hit him until she turned the scout on his back. There was a bullet hole right where his shoulder blade was, the bullet itself possibly stuck in the bone. Belara turned her head back to the entrance to see the new attacker. They made no attempt to hide as the night elf watched them, shocked. The gnome was casually reloading his flintlock pistol as he calmly walked to the camp. The night elf snapped out of her trance, running towards the camp as well. She easily outran the gnome, kneeling besides Dal'bin along with the dark ranger.

"Kelvin, right on time!" The stranger said, clapping. "Nice shot, by the way. Must of been hard shooting a troll that high up."

"You're congratulating him for shooting one of my scouts?" Belara asked as she stood up, turning to face the gnome in a possible battle.

"What? It's still an impressive shot," the stranger told her.

"Dal'bin, are you alright?" Finnal asked, trying to help Dal'bin up from the ground.

"What kind of question is that? He was just shot!" The stranger exclaimed.

"I'll live, mon," Dal'bin groaned in pain.

"You," the stranger pointed his finger at Finnal. "Get him out of here and get that bullet out of him. We wouldn't want him to regenerate with that still stuck in him. I guess it's up to me to try to patch things up now."

Finnal nodded, carrying Dal'bin away from the camp and towards one of the stadium's walls. Belara let her get away, at least knowing that she would try to help the scout. Her focus was completely on the sole threat: Kelvin. The gnome had finished reloading his flintlock, looking up at the dark ranger. It was a single shot pistol, so if he missed, then she would kill him. Yet, seeing what happened to Dal'bin, Belara knew that he would not miss. The bullet better kill her or else the gnome would regret trying to start a fight. The two stood still, neither one of them making a move.

"Look, all of this is just a big misunderstanding," the stranger tried explaining. "Dal'bin wasn't going to kill me. Not when his rifle didn't have any bullets in it. He'll survive being shot and make a full recovery too. Now, will you both just stand down and listen to me? This plan is complicated enough as it is and I won't have it fail when it's so close to completion."

"Since when were you a peacekeeper and planner, Colben?" Kelvin asked, slowly holstering his flintlock.

"Wait, you know who this man is?" Belara asked, surprised, lowering her daggers.

"Aye, we go way back," Colben told her, sitting besides the campfire once more. "Good to see you again, sir. Now, can we sit down and talk about the true threat on Outland?"

* * *

 **A/N: Well, I'm back everyone. Now, the good news is I no longer have any other big plans for the summer break so I will be able to focus on finishing up Broken World. So, expect me to stay mainly on the schedule I promise for the next three weeks. After that, I cannot guarantee that I can post as often as my summer will be over by then.**

 **Still, I've came this far and people still seem to enjoy the story as seen in the reviews. With that in mind, I will at least try to stick with the schedule if this story isn't finished in three weeks. Honestly, I cannot say when I'll be done with this. I mentioned having a rough draft of it in one of the earlier chapters, and although I am still sticking with the general plot of it, I've gone off the script. There's no telling what I'll write next.**

 **Until next time.**


	19. Campfire Tales

"So, where shall I begin?" Colben asked.

"Where do you begin?" Kelvin asked, annoyed. "Go to the beginning. I want to know how you're here."

Despite the reunion, the gnome was not too pleased given the circumstance. He was standing with his arms crossed as Belara took a seat with Colben around the campfire. Finnal was behind the tactician, tending to the wounds of Dal'bin. Truth be told, Kelvin thought it would be best if the Horde tended to themselves, but seeing how he misread the situation, he figured it would be best not to interfere. Besides, he had bigger things to worry about than an injured scout.

Colben had changed over the years and not just physically too. During the Second War, the old soldier expressed a firm hatred of the Horde. Now, he was sitting with a commander of a faction he once declared to be his enemy. Kelvin also took notice that his friend was now thinking of the bigger picture. Even the tactician was uncertain of this threat that Colben spoke of. Still, he had to remain cautious for the time being. He had to consider that this was all just some plot against both the Alliance and Horde for now.

"Right, I suppose you do deserve to know what happened to me," Colben agreed, turning his head to Belara. "We'll get to business later."

"Just make this quick," Belara muttered under her breath.

"Now then," Colben started, turning back to his old superior. "I was still serving Lordaeron proudly when the Scourge unleashed their plague upon my kingdom. I served my prince in fighting the undead from Stratholme all the way to Northrend."

"So, you served that bastard, Arthas?" Belara asked, now interested in the story.

"Yes, I did," Colben said, looking at the ground. "I would of never followed him had I known what he would do. I suppose that's why he killed and raised me as one of his eternal servants in Northrend."

"Seeing how you speak of these events, I presume that you were able to break free of his control much like the Forsaken?" Kelvin guessed.

"Right as always," Colben confirmed. "Of course, I didn't join Sylvanas when she went rogue. I went after Arthas so that I could get my revenge and avenge those he killed. Seeing how he's still alive, you can see that I've failed."

"Are you going anywhere with this?" Belara asked. "If the Illidari is the threat here, shouldn't we talk about them?"

"And we will. I just love telling stories," Colben told her, smiling. "Now, I'll make this a bit quicker. After Arthas became the Lich King, I knew that I could fall victim to the Scourge once more. So, I travelled around Azeroth, studying magic to make sure my mind would remain my own. Then, I discovered that the Dark Portal was opened again and after I crossed through to this new world, I knew that I've found my new home. I knew that I would be safe."

Kelvin frowned at Colben as he listened to him, feeling sorry for the old soldier. He was loyal in life to a man who would cause so much death and destruction. It would only be in death, or rather, undeath, that he would realize that blind loyalty is never good. The tactician knew that Colben would never serve the Scourge willingly. Even now, he only wanted to do what was right in his heart after everything he has gone through. Now, the gnome could only help that with those good intentions came a plan to stop this Illidari.

"So, now that we're done listening to your life story, could we please talk about the Illidari?" Belara asked, impatient.

"Of course," Colben answered. "Now, since this is my new home, I decided to do some research on it. Turns out just about half of it, give or take has been claimed by the Illidari. The Fel Horde is part of it and you've seen how they react to the expeditions."

"If we have half a world to face, then we will need more reinforcements from Azeroth," Kelvin calculated.

"No you won't," Colben told him. "Didn't you use to tell me that the best way to defeat an army-"

"-Was to take out the general," Kelvin finished.

Kelvin moved on from that philosophy long ago after it proved to be more inefficient than he realized. Take out the commander, and someone would rise to take his place as well as possibly inspiring the soldiers to fight harder as seen in the Second War. Still, in terms of a faction that controlled most of the world, taking out the leader would disrupt the chain of command. Unless a successor was chosen beforehand, the Illidari could break into infighting as the others fought for who will lead. It was only a theory but it could work.

Colben motioned for a slight pause as the two scouts joined the rest of the group. Finnal took a seat opposite of Belara and next to Kelvin and Colben. Dal'bin, his wound likely regenerated, picked up his rifle as he stood behind the night elf. Despite the weapon being unloaded, Kelvin briefly reached for his flintlock pistol. Yet, even he could see that the troll did not care about him. The scout focused his hatred surprisingly on Colben, glaring at the old soldier. While the gnome was unsure of why, he did remind himself of the situation that occurred beforehand.

"So, who leads the Illidari then?" Belara asked, sliding out one of her daggers. "If it's just one man, I could take care of him easily enough."

"If only you knew how wrong you were," Colben told her, grinning. "It didn't take me too long to find the leader, especially after he decided to name his followers after himself. We're dealing with Illidan Stormrage."

"The Betrayer," Finnal muttered, a hint of fear in her voice.

"You know who this Illidan is?" Kelvin asked, intrigued.

"I know only a little," Finnal answered, closing her eyes. "Illidan was imprisoned after the War of the Ancients thousand of years ago for trying to create a new Well of Eternity, which was responsible for shattering Azeroth and made it to what it is today. He was released when the Burning Legion invaded once more due to his skill with slaying demons but was exiled afterwards. I have not heard of him until today."

"Honestly, I don't know what's going on in Illidan's mind right now," Colben confessed. "He was somewhat responsible for releasing myself and others from the Lich King's control. Yet, he's no saint. I just want my home to be safe and I feel it'll be safer if his head was separated from his shoulders, truth be told."

"And that's why you arranged for all of us to meet you here," Kelvin realized. "You need our help."

"I do need help, but my plan didn't work as I wanted it to," Colben admitted. "It was only going to be you and I speaking here once I heard that a gnome tactician was one of the leaders responsible for the events at the Legion Front. That's why I left my broken sword behind at the battle."

"Wait, back up a minute," Belara demanded, crossing her arms. "You mentioned the events at the Legion Front. Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you are."

"Oh, but I am," Colben chuckled. "If we're going to have any hope of dispatching of Illidan, the Alliance and Horde will need to unite as they did before."

"That's out of the question," Kelvin snapped. "Commander Trollbane would never send the Alliance to work with the Horde and I have no plans of going over his head."

"The same goes for Nazgrel and the Horde," Belara agreed. "If it's armies you desire, then you're looking in all the wrong places."

"Who said I needed armies?" Colben grinned. "I just need a few skilled individuals who are willing to work with others to overcome a bigger foe. That's what I'm looking at here."

Kelvin thought about this for a moment. Even if Illidan did fall, there could be someone already waiting to take his place. It is very likely that should this plan succeed, the Illidari will still be standing. Yet, if they were the true threat as Colben claimed, then it needed to be dealt with. The Alliance was already busy enough dealing with the Fel Horde and the same applied to the Horde. So, if they cannot combat the Illidari with armies, then a strike force to assassinate Illidan would be the next best thing.

The only problem is Colben wants for the champions to be of both the Alliance and Horde. Had it only been one or the other sending the team, Kelvin would imagine that it would be successful. With both factions working together would make things more difficult. The tactician himself was mainly against the union as the high tension could lead to infighting in the group. Yet, he reminded himself that a joint team would mean less soldiers from the Alliance would be taken off the battlefield. Kelvin hated to admit it but there was some logical reasoning for Colben's plan.

"So, supposing we do go with your idea, how will it work?" Kelvin asked.

"You actually think this is a good idea?" Belara asked in disbelief.

"Oh, believe me when I say he doesn't think it's a good idea," Colben interrupted. "He just sees the logic behind it. To prove that my plan will work, we'll target the Warchief of the Fel Horde, Kargath Bladefist. We'll attack Hellfire Citadel in two days time right after they send out another raiding party, deal with Kargath and get the hell out of there."

"I shall try convincing Gregory that this is the right thing to do," Kelvin offered. "It'll be hard to convince him but I believe it to be possible."

"Well, don't think we're going to help," Belara stated harshly as she stood up. "I honestly see no reason to contribute to this suicidal attack and Dal'bin already hates your guts. We won't be telling anyone of this."

"Which is why I am going to Thrallmar with the both of you," Colben announced as he stood up. "My original plan would of had me talking to Oliktalv, and seeing how you two won't be of help, I figured I'd stick to that part of the plan."

"Dat isn't happenin' mon," Dal'bin told him, gripping his rifle tightly.

"Feel free to stop me, but I'll fight back" Colben challenged as he started to walk away. "Kelvin, if you are able to convince Gregory, we shall be back here. I'll see you then."

As Colben walked out of the stadium, Belara and Dal'bin looked to each other. Dal'bin briefly pointed his rifle towards him as a message to his commander but the dark ranger shook her head. She followed the old soldier out as well with the scout joining them after a moment of hesitation. Finnal stood up, waving towards their backs as they left the stadium. Kelvin watched in silence, at least hoping they would not change their minds and tried to attack Colben. He could very well handle himself in battle but it would not help present his case to the Horde.

"What do you think of this?" Kelvin asked, looking up towards Finnal.

"Well, it wouldn't be too bad to work with the Horde again," Finnal answered, smiling lightly. "They're not that bad. How about you?"

"Had it been anyone else who suggested the idea, I would reject it without giving it a single moment of thought," Kelvin answered bluntly. "Yet, I know Colben. He's different now but I still know I can trust him. I shall try to convince Gregory that this is the path we must follow, but I'm not sure if someone as stubborn as him will listen."

"Well, both of you are very loyal to the Alliance," Finnal told him. "If you could be convinced, then I believe without a doubt that Gregory can be convinced."

"Perhaps there is some truth to your words, Finnal," Kelvin agreed. "Head on to Honor Hold without me. Tell Gregory that once I return I wish to speak with him. And only that too. I wish to be the one who tells him what happened here."

"As you command," Finnal said, bowing.

Kelvin walked towards the exit as Finnal transformed back into a bird, flying off to Honor Hold. The gnome was still torn about the situation he was in. He was loyal to the Alliance and believed that they did not need the Horde's help to combat the Illidari. Yet, with this being Colben's idea, he would at least try to follow through with it. So, with that in mind, Kelvin was going to take his time riding back to Honor Hold. The tactician would need it to push his emotions to the side for now. The only thing that would matter is the logic behind it when he tried to convince the others to follow the plan.

* * *

 **A/N: Nothing much to say here other than an announcement. While it was my intention to finish this story before the summer ended, I reviewed the days I had left compared to how much of the story is left to tell. While I do hate that I won't meet the deadline I did promise, I feel that taking my time with the story is going to be necessary in order to give it a proper ending that isn't rushed. I would like to thank the readers who have stuck through with me time after time and delay after delay. I hope that even now, you'll keep on reading and enjoying Broken World.**

 **Until next time.**


	20. Family Legacy

Balthar struck his blade against the chest of his foe: a wooden training dummy located to the side of the tavern. He had to admit that this was his favorite part of training. After getting ready in the morning, Gregory quickly put his student to work again. They started off with a sparring session left him bruised underneath his heavy armor. His legs had finally stopped shaking after running ten laps around the base of Honor Hold. Afterwards, he went through normal exercises such as push-ups, sit-ups and pull-ups. Already exhausted, these simple exercises would prove to be a struggle for the young man.

Balthar slashed down upon the shield of the training dummy, a smile forming on his lips. He was about to fight Gregory in another sparring match when Kelvin returned. The tactician left without giving a message until Finnal told his mentor that they needed to meet once he returned. They left to the keep to talk about their business but Gregory gave one final instruction to Balthar. Since their spar is to be cancelled, he must practice on a training dummy for a hundred attacks.

Balthar swung his blade down upon the shoulder of the training dummy. Normally, he would use proper form and keep count of how many attacks he made. Yet, he saw no point in doing so with no one to monitor him. So, he made use of this time to take out his frustrations on the training dummy. Balthar kept swinging his sword down on the dummy. He did not want to put up with this training anymore. He had no desire to pick up a blade and fight to the death. That was never his calling. He was going to be trained in the ways of the Holy Light. He was too deep in thought to notice his friend approach from behind.

"I feel sorry for the dummy," Naur said, smiling. "With determination like that, you may be able to beat down a living foe without training."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Balthar whispered quietly, looking down at the ground as he dropped his sword. "I'm just a bit frustrated but what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with the others?"

"Kelvin requested the meeting to be with Gregory only," Balthar told him. "As for why I am here, I promised you a conversation. Remember?"

"Indeed I do," Balthar replied, turning around to face the draenei. "It was about your age, right?"

"And how old do you think I am?" Naur asked, crossing his arms. "Do not be afraid of being blunt. I already know you'll get it wrong."

"Your forties?" Balthar answered with uncertainty as he looked up at his friend.

"You are far too generous, Balthar," Naur said, chuckling loudly. It would be a few seconds before he regained his composure. "I am much older than that."

"How old are you, Naur?" Balthar asked, curious.

"Where's the fun in telling you?" Naur smiled. "I want you to guess it. Maybe not today but you'll get it down soon. I shall give you a hint: as far as I can remember, I cannot recall one of my kind dying of old age."

"You're immortal," Balthar muttered, shocked.

"Perhaps or maybe we have yet to reach the end of our lifespan," Balthar told him. "Now that you have an idea of how old I am, how about you?"

"Well, I'm kind of like you in the sense where I look younger than my age," Balthar admitted, looking down at the ground, "I look like I just entered manhood but I turned 24 a week and a half ago. It's kind of embarrassing to have people think I'm that young though. I suppose it's a compliment to look younger but I am always treated like I'm still a child."

Balthar blushed lightly as he revealed his secret to Naur. He never bothered turning anyone about his birthday. Truth be told, he did not think it would make a difference if he did. He would still have to get up with the rest of the soldiers. He would have to eat the rations provided like everyone else. Gregory would force him to stick with his regular training exercise like any other day. And that day turned out exactly as he expected it to. He suppose that is what it is like to be among warriors. There would be no breaking for any holidays. Not when there is a war to fight.

Not to mention that Balthar was ashamed at the progress he made. He was suppose to be in his prime right now: young, fit and strong. Yet, the training he underwent did not make him strong. Over a month of training and he saw no physical improvement in himself. Balthar was still exhausted after the hours of training while his mentor kept pushing on, wanting more. He was never going to meet the expectations Gregory had for him. He was never going to make his father proud.

"That is nothing to be ashamed of, Balthar," Naur comforted him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are a man despite your youthful appearance. So, why do you listen to others instead of following your own path?"

"Well, I want to make my father proud," Balthar confessed. "He raised myself and my younger brother, Thatch, by himself after mother passed away from an illness. He made it clear that one of us would follow in his footsteps and serve as a warrior. It would be his legacy. The other would stay with him and manage the farm we had. I wasn't as great with the farm work as my brother was so I told him I'd learn how to fight a year ago. He arranged for Gregory to train me and here I am now."

"A wise choice but allow me to tell you the perspective of a parent," Naur said, closing his eyes in deep thought. "I had a daughter, Elora. She was once a priestess at the Temple of Karabor, which is on this world. It matter little to me what she wanted to do in her life though. I was proud of her. I only wish I could tell her that one more time. Her legacy lives on, but in a way you wouldn't expect. That's a story for another time though."

"Naur, I'm sorry, I didn't know," Balthar whispered, looking up to his friend.

"Do not feel sorry for what happened in the past," Naur told him, opening his eyes. "I tell you this so you may find your own path. I mean no offense when I say this, but you will never become the warrior your father wants you to be. You can try to continue your training and disappoint him when you fail. Or, you can find a new path to walk down. Your father may resent you at first, but he, like all parents, will eventually be proud at what you accomplished. You will always be his legacy. Now, I want you to tell me what you want to do with your life."

Naur was setting him up for the reveal now. The vindicator was unlike his father or Gregory. He truly wanted what was best for Balthar. This was the perfect time to reveal to the draenei what path he wished to take. Then, everything will will fall according to plan. He would train under Naur instead of Gregory. His old mentor may be stubborn but would hopefully move on. There would be no stopping him now. Balthar opened his mouth, yet not words came out. Only a reassuring squeeze from his friend convinced him to speak

"I wish to become a priest," Balthar announced with confidence. "I wish to follow the Light, Naur. I believe, no, I know that to be my calling. Please, will you help me?"

"In my opinion, you would make for an excellent priest," Naur said as he stroked the tendrils on his chin in thought. "I would be willing to train you during our time on Outland. Once we return to Azeroth, it would be best for you to seek counsel among your own people."

"Can you help me tell Gregory?" Balthar asked, smiling. "I fear he may not approve of my choice."

"Of course I will," Naur answered. "We need to wait until the time is right though. Unlike myself, he won't take this well."

"I understand," Balthar agreed.

"Naur! Balthar! Over here!" Gregory called out.

Sure enough, the commander was walking away from the keep and towards the two. By his side was Kelvin and behind them Finnal. Balthar did his best to hide his excitement, not wanting Gregory to find out until Naur determined what the right time was. Pushing his eagerness away, the young man became curious of what was going on. Kelvin specifically wanted to meet with Gregory regarding a secret. Perhaps now they will figure out what is happening.

"Greetings, sir," Naur greeted as he turned to face them. "What news do you bring?"

"We're moving out," Gregory declared. "We're heading off to the stadium. I'm certain you all remember the way from before."

"And why are we going there?" Naur asked, curious as well.

"I'll skip straight to the point, but we're working with the Horde again," Gregory answered. "We'll be sneaking into Hellfire Citadel and fight alongside some of their champions to deal with the Fel Horde's leader. It'll be just the five of us."

"Just the five of us?" Balthar asked, shocked.

"Indeed," Gregory replied. "Commander Trollbane will not approve of this plan knowing we're working with the Horde again. Personally, I agree, but Kelvin believes that this plan will guarantee victory."

"Not only that, but there'll be less casualties than there would of been had we gone with a siege," Kelvin quickly added.

"We'll have some time to wait even after we all meet up at the stadium, so it's best if we take our time walking there," Finnal suggested. "I don't mind travelling with the four of you."

"That, and if we're going rogue, we won't be taking any of the mounts at the stables," Gregory agreed. "And that isn't because I don't work well with those horses."

"Well, you're not the only one who doesn't know how to ride a horse," Naur chuckled warmly. "When do we leave?"

"Now," Gregory answered.

The commander started to lead the group out of Honor Hold. Balthar kept to the side of his mentor as Gregory would of wanted. He was somewhat afraid to be part of the force to sneak into Hellfire Citadel. If this was the best plan instead of a siege, it would be very dangerous. Still, Balthar did look forward to working with the Horde again. Perhaps this time he would get to know some of their warriors better. Maybe they would be enemies in the future but he could at least call a select few his friends.

Balthar hoped that he and his friends would survive the upcoming battle.. Hellfire Citadel was breached by the Alliance before, but after the Fel Horde secured it, it proved to be lethal to take back. He had to survive one final battle with a sword if he wished to train as a priest. Afterwards, he could give up fighting in wars in pursuit of healing and helping others. If he did enough service as a priest, he knew everyone would be proud of him. Naur. Gregory. Father. All he needed to do was survive this battle.

* * *

 **A/N: I am not sure how long ago it was, but I remember writing in the author's notes about how I had over 100 custom Warcraft characters who I had plans for. (I believe it was in Chapter 5 when I talked about this, but I'm just guessing). Well, again, I was bored a few days before writing this chapter, and started to update it. I bet a lot of you are thinking that I got rid of a bunch of unneeded characters. Which I did. Yet, I added more characters to the list as well, so the total of characters I have now is up to 156. Right now, unless anything is changed in WoW, I do not expect to create anymore than what I already have. I don't think this will affect the rest of Broken World but it may give you something to look forward to in upcoming sequels.**

 **Until next time.**


	21. Loyal Traitors

Oliktalv thought carefully to himself as he recalled the events that took place today. Shortly after waking up, he found out that Belara returned from her task but not alone. With her was Dal'bin, who the commander was glad to have back. He was worried for the scout when he disobeyed orders and ran off on his own to take matters in his own hand. While it was good to see the troll again, safe and sound, he did not expect the third guest. Shortly after introductions were made, Oliktalv found out that Colben was Belara's target. He was furious that Belara went with her own agenda and did not take the stranger out. He made not be threatening as Dal'bin described but he was not to be trusted. And at this point, he could not trust the dark ranger.

Then, the four of them spoke in his quarters. Oliktalv and Colben sat across each other at the table while Belara and Dal'bin stood guard by the door. The man explained his plan about how he needed for the commander and several of his warriors to sneak into Hellfire Citadel to take down the Warchief of the Fel Horde. Normally, he would consider the plan impossible until it was mentioned that they would be working with champions of the Alliance as well. Oliktalv knew that if the two factions sent their heroes on this quest, it would end with victory. Yet, the commander knew that Nazgrel would never approve.

So, Oliktalv found himself left with two options: ignore Colben's idea and find a different way to siege Hellfire Citadel or join up with the Alliance and risk being charged with treason. Going with the first option would be the safest for himself. His loyalty to the Horde would remain unquestioned and he could continue leading his warriors to battle. Yet, when the time comes that Oliktalv would have to siege Hellfire Citadel, he knew that casualties will be high. He was certain that he would survive but he was concerned for those who served under his command as well as his friends.

Going with the second idea would have Oliktalv stripped of his rank and sent back to Azeroth as a traitor. Nazgrel already warned him the consequences of working with the Alliance again. Yet, it would save the lives of his soldiers. Yet, it would not be only him facing punishment. Those he brought with him will face the same punishment he would. Oliktalv could not force anyone to follow him with that in mind but he knew well that there would be some who would follow him. Although Gotur hated Alliance and Dal'bin still wanted to kill Colben, he knew that they would both follow him. Belara must of saw reason in the stranger's word and agreed to the plan. That only led Salin, who was now finished recovering from battle. With that in mind, the commander reached his decision.

"Belara, tell Gotur and Salin to meet us outside the gates of Thrallmar," Oliktalv commanded.

"So, you're going with his plan?" Belara asked, crossing her arms.

"I gave you an order," Oliktalv reminded her. "You've already failed with the original order you were given. Now, get to it."

"Fine then," Belara replied coldly as she walked out of the room.

"She does bring up a good question," Colben said, tapping a bony finger on the wooden table. "What do you think of my plan?"

"I approve of it, but under one condition," Oliktalv told him.

"And what would that be?" Colben asked, curious.

"You must understand that by doing this, Nazgrel will declare me a traitor to the Horde," Oliktalv started. "I am willing to face punishment if it means a blow dealt to the Fel Horde."

"Illidari," Colben interrupted.

"The Illidari," Oliktalv corrected himself, remembering Colben's explanation. "Yet, I am not worried for myself. I am worried for those who will join me for they will face the same punishment."

"Honestly, killing Kargath should be enough to save you from any punishment from the Horde," Colben shrugged.

"That is a possibility," Oliktalv agreed. "Yet, I wish to stay on the safe side. When we break into Hellfire Citadel, Bladefist will not be our only target. We shall also target the demon that is responsible for turning these orcs into what they are."

Colben's jaw dropped a few inches, shocked by what Oliktalv was demanding. By killing the demon responsible for the creation of the fel orcs, the Fel Horde would dwindle down until it became defunct. That may make for a good case when a punishment is decided for his supposed treason. Oliktalv knew it was going to be dangerous however as he recalled how Hellscream lost his life to slay Mannoroth. Only a pit lord would be capable of giving its blade to corrupt orcs as far as the commander knew. Slowly, Colben regained his composure, grinning at the orc.

"I suppose I should have expected that you would want to take down a bigger target than Kargath," Colben commented. "Very well, I agree to your term."

"You were easily convinced," Oliktalv noted.

"Well, I figured if I refused your demand, you would of had me killed," Colben stated bluntly as Dal'bin nodded in approval of the idea. "And since you have that power, is there anyone else you would like to add to the hit list?"

"Deathrunner."

Oliktalv and Dal'bin both turned their heads to face Dal'bin as he interrupted their conversation. Since failing to kill the fel orc the first time, the scout only had two targets in mind: Brak'thur and Colben. The commander was worried about the troll's plans for revenge. It was good that he was finally taking risks of his own but those risks may harm everyone else. Perhaps if an opportunity presented itself, Dal'bin would try to take down Colben when they fought in Hellfire Citadel. He already disobeyed an order once. There was nothing to stop him from doing so again.

"Colben, go introduce yourself to the others and explain to them what is going on," Oliktalv requested. "Dal'bin and I will be right along shortly."

"Very well, but as far as I'm concern, Brak'thur, or as you call him, Deathrunner, isn't worth going after," Colben replied.

The man stood up and walked outside of the room, leaving the two alone. Out of those in his inner circle, Dal'bin was the least likely to come on this mission. Oliktalv could not risk the chance of friendly fire during the battle. Also, he briefly remembered how when they first met, the troll was having problems with the law already. Although he had improved and showed complete loyalty to the Horde, the possibility exist that some of his past crimes could influence the level of punishment taken. Oliktalv stood up and approached Dal'bin, looking up at the scout.

"Dal'bin, what do you think of Colben?" Oliktalv asked, crossing his arms.

"Ya already know dat, mon," Dal'bin reminded him.

"I do, but I want to know if you still want to kill him," Oliktalv corrected himself. "I am going with Colben's plan. I want you to help as well but there are too many risks involved."

"Ya be needin' me," Dal'bin told him. "Nobody be better with da rifle dan me."

"I know that," Oliktalv agreed. "What's to stop you from turning that rifle onto Colben in the heat of battle?"

"Nothin', mon," Dal'bin answered without emotion. "Ya may believe dat I'm goin' ta kill him in da battle. I still hate him and want him ta pay. I'm not goin' ta lie ta ya when it comes ta dat. Yet, unlike some who ya be takin' with ya, I want ta work with da Alliance. I'm not sayin' dat because dat's what I think ya want me ta say, but because dat be da truth. So, dere be nothin' stoppin' me from killin' Colben, but I won't kill him. I can promise ya dat."

With a grunt, Oliktalv turned and left the room, motioning for the scout to follow him. He remembered the report Dal'bin wrote for him after the battle of the Legion Front. It described about how he was forced to fight the demonic commander alone until reinforcements arrived. The soldiers that came were not of the Horde but of the Alliance instead. The troll never talked much about it, but hearing what he said about the Alliance, Oliktalv concluded that Dal'bin did trust the Alliance. With the scout telling the commander the truth about it, he also assumed he was telling the truth about agreeing not to kill Colben as well.

The two left Thrallmar to see the others gathered around outside the wall. From the looks of it, the only two talking were Salin and Colben. As the two neared the group, Oliktalv could not help but notice the look of anger on Gotur's face which was directed at him. The commander could not blame his old friend. He would always be against working with the Alliance but would follow his brother to the Twisting Nether and back out of sheer loyalty. Perhaps in the future he would see reason in Oliktalv's plan.

"So, there I was, facing down the infernal, ranseur in hand," Salin explained. "It was three times my height and had just wiped out a dozen of my brave comrades. I knew in that moment that only one of us would walk away from the battle."

"And then it took you down with one punch," Gotur interrupted, grinning.

"How dare you interrupt me when I was telling our guest an incredible story of my heroic nature!" Salin exclaimed furiously.

"Well, you were at least right about how only one of you would walk away from the battle," Colben thought aloud

"He's wrong on that too," Belara corrected. "He had to be dragged and carried all the way back to Thrallmar."

"Well, I can safely boast that I have the power to face down anything that's bigger than me and live to tell the tale," Salin declared, chuckling as his anger dispersed.

"That's enough storytelling," Oliktalv announced, gathering the attention of those present. "Colben has already explained the plan to you, I imagine. I am going to the stadium to fight alongside the Alliance. When word does get out of this, I will be declared a traitor, and I have accepted that. If any of you three wish to stay back, then I will not stop you. Those of you who will come with me will likely be branded traitors as well should we return. The choice is yours to make."

"I'm in," Salin started. "As a veteran of suicide missions on this cursed world, you will find my talent to be quite useful in the fight ahead."

"I followed you with your plan regarding the Legion Front and I will continue to follow you, brother," Gotur joined in. "I look forward to the fight that awaits us regardless of who fights by my side."

"Well, someone's going to have to keep all of you from getting yourselves killed," Belara muttered, crossing her arms. "So, do we leave now?"

"We do," Oliktalv answered. "I thank you all for your loyalty today."

"Yes, thank us, a group of traitors, for our loyalty," Salin chuckled.

Oliktalv smiled warmly at the Blood Knight's joke as he turned to walk off towards the stadium. One by one, the rest of the group followed him, leaving Thrallmar behind. He was glad to have such loyal friends on this world. He knew Gotur and Dal'bin back on Azeroth and was fortunate enough to befriend Salin and Belara on Outland. Now, they would work with more trusted friends, but they would be of the Alliance. Oliktalv knew that together, Kargath would stand no chance against them. Yet, he did fear for how many would fall in the upcoming battle.

* * *

 **A/N: If anyone's wondering why Oliktalv and co. believe they're going to be traitors despite not actively harming the Horde, the situation they're in is very similar to how Kael'thas worked with the naga back in WC3 despite being ordered not to by his superior, Garithos. I figured it would be best to leave a short explanation about this in case anyone is confused about it.**

 **Until next time.**


	22. The Vanguard

From the stands of the stadium, Colben overlooked the scene before him. Minutes ago, he arrived at his latest home with his new allies to find the Alliance waiting for him. After a quick round of introductions, he excused himself quickly, telling everyone to make themselves at home and to call each other by their names, not their titles. At first, Colben was certain that they would break out into a fight while he walked to the stands. Yet, much to his surprise, no one was dead yet. Even more to his surprise, they were acting friendly to each other.

Still by the entrance, Oliktalv stood between Gotur and Gregory, both of whom still had their hands upon the hilts of their weapons. The orcish commander tried talking, but the two warriors remained silent as they stared each other down. He expected it would be those two who would try to fight, and that would not change. It would be out of hatred for now, but Colben expected that in time, it would be because of their pride. They were both skilled warriors and would naturally try to prove which of them was superior. He was glad to have Oliktalv there to keep the peace but he would not mind seeing a sparring match between the knightly commander and the hulking barbarian.

Elsewhere, Salin spoke to Balthar and Naur, and judging by the occasional pose he made and the rising of his voice, he was telling another one of his stories. Colben did not know if the tales were true and he honestly did not care. It would be a good way to raise moral in the upcoming days. Balthar listened to the story, nodding every once in awhile but remained silent, keeping to himself. The boy was not as interested in the story as Naur was. The vindicator asked questions and offered feedback, striking up a conversation with the Blood Knight. Although he knew little of the draenei, he did know of their long lives. If anyone had a story to tell, it would be Naur.

Huddled by the campfire was his own commander, Kelvin, speaking to Belara. Out of those he gathered, Colben figured it would be those two who kept to themselves. The dark ranger kept her trust to herself while the tactician hated social conversations. Still, the old soldier could tell that although they were refusing to speak to anyone else, they were talking to each other. Even though he considered them to be the outcasts of their factions, he figured they might build up a friendship that would lead to them being more open to the rest of their allies.

On the opposite side of him, Colben saw the two scouts in a conversation. If it could be called one, that is. Finnal seemed genuinely interested in the the conversation as she did most of the talking. The old soldier still was not sure why she insisted on speaking with Dal'bin, who did not seem to care about the conversation. He was mainly nodding, occasionally offering one word to continue the conversation, but his focus was not on the conversation. Instead, it was focus on the old soldier in the wall. Now, while Colben understood why Dal'bin hated him, yet his regeneration was not going to work at the time. Hopefully, he would prove to the troll that he was a friend to him.

Colben took one last look at what he was able to accomplish, a feeling of pride overwhelming him. Normally, he would never consider such an idea as this. He was willing to face Illidan himself if he did not think of anything else. Then, he heard about how the Alliance and Horde worked together to win a battle at the Legion Front. Despite their small presence on this world, the Burning Legion would always be more powerful compared to the Illidari. If a united army could defeat the demonic threat, then a group of champions from both the Alliance and Horde will be enough to take down Illidan.

As the old soldier made his way down to join the others, he continued thinking about his plan. The hard part was over now. All Colben needed to do now was to make sure that they would not turn on each other. He felt like once they go through a fight, like they shall in Hellfire Citadel, they will begin to trust each other. Speaking from personal experience, Colben found himself more trusting of his comrades after a fight. The bond between brothers-in-arms is not a bond to be taken lightly. As he made his way to the center of the stadium, the old soldier coughed loudly into his arm, gathering everyone's attention. Slowly, the group made their way to join him at the center.

"Well, it's good to see you're all getting along," Colben commented. "But we need to get down to business now. This will be a short meeting to discuss the plan for Hellfire Citadel."

"It's still the same as before?" Gregory questioned, confused. "We get in, take down Kargath, and get out."

"Yes, that's the short-term plan," Colben confirmed. "Yet, Oliktalv believes that while we're in the fortress, we will take down the demon responsible for making the Fel Horde what it is today."

"Do you have a death wish?!" Kelvin exclaimed in shock. "Our odds of survival are very slim as it is, and you want us to go after a bigger target?"

"A target that is worth more than the Warchief," Oliktalv argued. "We take down the demon, and there will be no more fel orcs to deal with. As a tactician, you can see the reasoning behind this."

"I do, but it'll take more than ten warriors to bring down such a powerful demon," Kelvin told everyone. "Colben, if this is what you want us to do, then I believe we need a new leader."

"A leader such as myself!" Gregory declared. "I shall lead us to victory over the Warchief and the Fel Horde!"

"And why should you lead us, pale skin?" Gotur challenged with a grunt. "I wouldn't dare follow you into battle but I would gladly follow my brother on this suicidal mission for I know he will succeed."

"I will not follow a mindless savage into battle," Gregory shot back.

Colben sighed as he blocked out the other voices that were joining in on the argument on who should lead. If someone from the Alliance leads, then the Horde will not follow. If someone from the Horde leads, then the Alliance will not follow. Colben knew that he could not lead this group either. It was his intention to act as a guiding hand to send these heroes into battle against the true threat on Outland. An idea quickly formed in his head that should be enough to settle this fight.

"ENOUGH!" Colben shouted as everyone silenced themselves. The old soldier grinned, crossing his arms. "Now that I have your attention again, there will be no leader. We shall all be equals and make a decision amongst ourselves."

"Then perhaps we should vote on if we choose to hunt down this demon or not," Naur suggested calmly. "It seems to be the fair thing to do."

"Fine, we'll vote on it," Colben sighed, defeated. "Majority rules. I vote for keeping our asses away from that demon. We're good, but not good."

"Agreed," Belara joins in. "I vote the same."

"As do I," Kelvin chimed in. "Only a fool would dare try attacking a demon of that power without the backing of an army."

"Well, I suppose that makes me a fool," Naur said, smiling. "I vote for fighting the demon. It is incredibly powerful and if we do not slay it now, it may come back to haunt us or the factions we serve."

"I said it before, and I'll say it again: the demon must be stopped," Oliktalv declared. "My vote goes for hunting down this monster."

"Well sir, it looks like you were wrong earlier," Colben told his old commander. "So far, the people who want to fight the demon seem to be reasonable."

"As a veteran of fighting beings greater than me in both size and power, I believe that we will be enough to take down this demon," Salin announced. "I cast my vote for fighting the demon!"

"And you spoke too soon," Belara muttered under her breath.

"I've trusted the advice of Kelvin before, and it has kept me and my men alive so far," Gregory reasoned. "I vote with him."

"Well, that's enough reason for me to vote for killing the demon," Gotur grunted. "I look forward to fighting such a powerful foe."

Silence followed as Colben mentally tallied the votes and voters in his head. It was a tie with four votes for each side. Yet, there were three who have yet to cast their vote on their side. Gregory turned to Balthar, expecting him to cast his vote with him. Yet, the young man focused on Naur, who nodded upon seeing his gaze. With Balthar stuck between two options and two people, the old soldier expected that he would not be of any help unless the tie persisted. Yet, looking at the two scouts, Colben doubt there would be a tie. Finnal stared expectantly at Dal'bin, waiting for the troll to make the first move. Apparently, she was going to vote the same as he does. So, the course of their mission depended on a scout who hated his guts. As much as the old soldier hoped they would not dare go after that demon, he already knew what Dal'bin was going to say.

"We go after da demon," Dal'bin finally broke the silence.

"My thoughts exactly," Finnal quickly supported. "Isn't that the majority now?"

"It is," Colben answered. "Looks like we'll be going after both Kargath and the demon that empowers the Fel Horde."

Colben was surprised to see that there was no argument after the decision was made. He thought that at least one person from the losing side would try to start a debate on how they will all die from fighting a demon. Yet, it seemed everyone accepted the majority vote. The equal union idea he suggested was actually working. Too bad most of the group would fall to the demon. It would just mean that he would need to recruit more champions to face Illidan in the future. He would fight alongside the group for the time being just to ensure that there would be some survivors.

"So, shall we get back to the planning?" Gregory asked, slightly annoyed by the vote but otherwise remained calm.

"We shall," Colben replied. "Now, the original plan was to fight together as a group towards the throne room, but it seemed like that's going to have to change. We'll split off into two groups: a smaller one to engage Kargath in battle and a larger one to find and slay the demon."

"Shouldn't we travel together as a group inside of Hellfire Citadel?" Belara suggested. "There is safety in numbers."

"Normally, that's the case, but if we're all in one large group, the fel orcs will send all of their warriors upon us," Colben told her. "By splitting into two groups, they will have to divide their own forces. That'll give us a better fighting chance."

"I see you reasoning," Belara admitted. "So, who'll be in each group?"

"There'll be four to take down Kargath," Colben started. "The Fel Horde is likely to focus on the rest of the group, so the four will find encounter a few orcs in their way. They'll need to kill Kargath and get out of the Citadel. So, any volunteers?"

"I shall be the one to lead the three," Gregory quickly volunteered. "As always, Balthar will accompany me into battle. Isn't that right?"

"It is, sir," Balthar quickly agreed.

"Gotur and I shall also join," Oliktalv joined in. "As orcs, it will be our duty to challenge Bladefist. Does anyone object to this?"

Gotur only grunted, not liking the idea of following a human's orders. Yet, no one objected to the group. Colben had no problems with it either. It would be a good idea to have two of the Alliance and two of the Horde to fight together. It would allow them to learn to trust each other in battle. The larger group also had a variety of talents that should be enough in taking down the demon that awaited them in the fortress. He still believed that they stood no chance against it but he was glad to fight along with this group.

"I'll lead the larger group into Hellfire Citadel," Colben concluded. "Any questions before we get into our first training session?"

"I got one!" Finnal announced loudly. "What's our name?"

"Our name? Colben asked again, somewhat confused.

"Well, our group needs a name," Finnal said. "What should it be?"

"We don't need a name," Colben answered bluntly.

"I'd rather pick a name now then to have the historians decide it for us!" Salin declared, joining in. "We shall be the Paragons of Justice!"

"Why that name?" Belara asked. "Not all of us are in it for the justice. This is just better than fighting a war that's getting us nowhere."

"And Illidan's betrayal only affected my people," Finnal supported.

"But that name is one of-" Salin started.

"We don't need a name!" Colben interrupted. "Why is this even a matter of debate?"

"You did say we would all get an equal say in all matters," Naur told him. "So, until this matter is settled upon, we shall not train."

"So, this is just an excuse to avoid training?" Kelvin asked, annoyed.

"How about the Honorable Ones?" Oliktalv suggested as the gnome was ignored

"Now that's a name I like," Gregory said. "We must remember to fight with honor!"

"For once, I agree with him," Gotur joined in.

"Technically, our work is more of an assassin than it is a warrior," Kelvin stated out. "We are setting out to target one man to end his life."

"Not you too, sir," Colben muttered in defeat.

"Maybe the Vanguard will work," Balthar spoke up.

"Vanguard of what?" Belara asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, just the Vanguard," Balthar admitted, looking down at the ground.

"We can't even agree on a name," Colben pointed out. "We should just forget about it and move onto training. We will have a long and difficult fight ahead of us."

"I like da Vanguard one," Dal'bin shrugged.

"It doesn't sound that bad," Finnal agreed.

"I am all for being known as a stalwart defender of the Vanguard!" Salin exclaimed.

"Out of all the names, it had to be the Vanguard," Colben complained.

"It is short and straight to the point," Kelvin reasoned. "I don't see why we don't use it."

"Well, it seems like the majority wants us to be the Vanguard, so I'll agree," Belara shrugged, not really caring about the name.

"And I am for being known as the Vanguard," Naur concluded. "Six is the majority among eleven of us."

Colben sighed in defeat, accepting the name only to move on. He honestly did not care for something so formal as a name for their group. Still, it would raise morale among the champions and act a way for them to unite. After seeing some reason behind it, he decided that maybe he should refer to them by their new name. They could of had a worse name than the Vanguard after all. He still could not get that first name out of his head because of how awful it was.

"Fine, we're the Vanguard!" Colben announced. "Now, before we get into another useless debate, we need to train. I'll let you train however you want to, but just do something productive."

"Do you have any training weapons?" Kelvin asked.

"All I have is the trophies I collected in my tent," Colben answered. "Some are dull, some are sharp. I won't force you to use them though."

"I won't need them," Gotur grunted, lifting up his battle ax.

"This is how a real warrior trains!" Gregory announced, unsheathing his sword to point it at the bigger orc.

* * *

 **A/N: And here we have the first time the main cast (who will now be referred to as the Vanguard) met fully. We had bits and bits of members meeting each other, but this is the first full meeting they had. It took twenty chapters but it finally happened. Also, it'll be at this chapter where the title of Broken World will be updated. I shall now have it listed as The Vanguard: Broken World. I have been looking for a name to refer to the Outland Arc as a series, and I believe that with this chapter, I found the perfect name to use. I hope you enjoy this change as much as I do.**

 **Until next time.**


	23. Training Exercises

Quickly, everyone backed off as the two warriors charged one another. Ax and sword met, the clang echoing throughout the stadium. The two pushed on their weapons, caught in a deadly bladelock. Gregory's feet started to push back against the dirt as he scowled. On the other side, Gotur grinned. The human quickly jumped back, breaking the lock as the orc charged forward again. Gregory quickly pivoted around the orc, evading his charge while swinging his blade towards his side. Yet, the sword bounced off the durable armor, only leaving a slight scar on it. The two warriors turned to face each other again, circling around as they awaited the next move.

The others quickly made their way to the tent where Colben stored his collection of weapons. Unlike the other two warriors, they knew better than to fight with sharp steel in a training exercise. Balthar turned his head towards the others and quickly followed them. He already did the math in his head and realized that if they were going to do sparring matches with two people for each, there would be one person left on the sidelines. As Gregory and Gotur resumed their sparring, Balthar followed the others to the tent as they tossed their normal weapons to the side to browse what Colben had for them. Balthar quickly dropped his sword to the ground, hoping that he would be the odd man out.

"Colben, I'm not seeing any ranseurs here," Salin commented with a frown.

"What's that?" Colben asked, shuffling through the pile.

"Well, it's like a spear, but with two prongs to the side," Salin explained.

"Like a trident?" Finnal suggested as she looked at a small dagger in her hands.

"No, not like a trident," Salin replied, somewhat offended.

"Well, we got nothing like that here," Colben declared. "What you see is what you got."

"Well, I don't know how to fight with anything else here," Salin stated bluntly.

"I see plenty of swords," Belara offered as she held one of the blades out to the Blood Knight. "I remember your skill with a blade. Fighting with that spear-"

"Ranseur" Salin quickly interrupted.

"Whatever," Belara shrugged. "I still bet you're much better with a sword than you are with that."

"Even if that were the case, none of these swords are able to meet my expectations," Salin argued. "No offense, Colben."

"Well, if you're going to complain so much, maybe you should do some hand-to-hand combat," Oliktalv offered, examining one of the training swords.

"Well, if you insist on it," Salin agreed, grinning.

"Dal'bin, you're up," Oliktalv commanded. "Oh, and don't break any of his bones. He just finished recovering from his last defeat."

Dal'bin nodded, dropping the wooden spear he had in his hands to the ground. The troll walked to the sides followed by Salin. Balthar turned his head to the duo, interested in seeing the match they were about to have. They both seemed to be of same physical shape from a first glance so it would be an even match on that. Yet, the young man was much more interested in their skill. Salin took his time to stretch while Dal'bin crossed his arms. After a moment, the Blood Knight took a combat stance, staring down his opponent. The scout made no effort to assume a stance, only nodding to begin battle.

Salin dashed forward, quickly throwing a punch aimed at his opponent's throat. In response, Dal'bin raised his forearms to cover his neck and face. As the punch was blocked, the troll quickly threw a kick towards his opponent's side. Despite being armored, Salin hunched over at the impact of the blow. He dashed off again, trying to tackle the scout to the ground. Dal'bin quickly stepped to the side, throwing his own punch down at the elf charged past him. The metal armor again did not phase the scout as his fist landed down on his opponent's back. Salin fell down, groaning in pain as Dal'bin started to pace, hiding his pain.

Balthar was stunned by the performance he just saw. Without making any effort, Dal'bin managed to take his opponent down with only two hits, both of which connected with metal armor. He turned his head to face Oliktalv to notice his grin as he watched the fight. The orc must of knew about the troll's talent, using it as a way to punish Salin for refusing to fight with an actual weapon. He turned back to see the Blood Knight stood up, a drip of blood falling from his nose. Balthar was also stunned that the blood elf was willing to keep up the fight despite being at a huge disadvantage.

"When will that fool learn?" Belara muttered under her breath as Salin charged his opponent again.

"Well, seeing how he survived fighting an infernal, Salin must be doing something right," Oliktalv brought up.

"He survived an infernal, not survived fighting it," Belara corrected. "The same reasoning applies for whenever he brags about fighting that abomination in Quel'thalas. He just managed not to get himself killed."

"The talent to survive against bigger opponents is a valuable one," Naur stated calmly.

"Especially when we'll be fighting whatever demon is giving the Fel Horde its blood," Colben joined in, still searching the weapon pile. "Now, where did I put that shield?"

"Well, who wants to fight me?" Finnal asked with a smile, pointing out her dagger to the crowd.

"Uh, Finnal, why do you need a weapon?" Balthar asked back. "Aren't you a druid?"

"I am, but it's hard to train with my shapeshifting," Finnal answered. "So, I might as well make use of this time to learn how to defend myself whenever I'm not in my feral form, right?"

"So, you never fought with a dagger before?" Belara asked, crossing her arms.

"Never!" Finnal replied.

"Well, you're going to need someone how to teach you," Belara answered, picking up a sword from the ground. "Which hand are you going to fight with?"

"My right hand," Finnal told her.

"I am only going to say this once. Keep it behind your back and twist it around so that the tip of the blade is faced to the left," Belara instructed as she walked off to somewhere with more space. "When I strike, you will raise the dagger to block and then strike. We will repeat this until I feel like you have this down. Do you understand?"

"I do!" Finnal exclaimed as she quickly followed the dark ranger.

They stood a few feet apart from each other as Belara turned back to face her opponent. She sighed as Finnal took up her stance, keeping the dagger behind her back while trying to hide back her excitement. Balthar noticed that they contrasted greatly: one was serious while the other was more playful. These exercises were showing how the different members of the Vanguard were. Turning his head back to his mentor, he took note that Gregory was forced to change his combat style, now focusing on evading as Gotur swung his ax wildly. On the other side, Salin dropped his combat stance, trying to learn from Dal'bin's unique style as they fought. This change of tactic was not as useful as his mentor's change and the Blood Knight ended back on the ground with another kick.

Belara quickly charged forward, swinging her sword down towards her opponent. Finnal swung her dagger from her back, raising it to block the dagger. As the two blades met with a small clang, the night elf pushed her blade forward, jabbing it towards the dark ranger's gut. While such a blow would be serious, the dagger was unsharp like most weapons in Colben's collection and offered no injury. Belara turned back around, taking a few steps away to prepare again. Finnal resumed her old stance as well as Balthar turned his head back to see how the others were doing.

"There's only five of us left," Oliktalv noted. "Someone will be left out of the action."

"That would be me," Kelvin quickly volunteered. "These weapons are too heavy for me to use and I'd rather not risk injuring my opponent with my actual weapons."

"Trust me, if he still fights the same as he did during the Second War, we're better off with him staying out of this," Colben agreed. "Kelvin will signal when our training ends in half an hour. Kid, you'll be training with me."

"I guess that just means it's down to us, Naur," Oliktalv said, holding out two, dull swords.

"I look forward to our match, my friend," Naur smiled, picking up a rusted hatchet.

Balthar gulped as Naur and Oliktalv left to find an open space to train. He was interested in seeing how they would fight. Even in training, Naur never fought himself and the young man was interested in seeing how he fought. Yet, he would be fighting today it would seem. It did make some sense as Kelvin did not have the height needed to compete with the rest of the Vanguard. He did have the skill which Balthar lacked though. Yet, it was not because of his skill that he was worried about fighting.

Balthar looked at his opponent, who was still continuing to search his pile of weapons. Colben was one of the six soldiers who was made an honorary knight for his service in the Second War. This also applied to Gregory, and based on the way he trained his student, the young man knew that this sparring match would be painful. He just needed to hold out for half an hour, which should not be too hard. He bent down and reached for a hilt of a training sword only to be stopped as Colben swatted his hand away. Balthar took a few steps back, gasping in pain as he held his hand.

"When I said we'll be training, I didn't say we'll be fighting," Colben told him harshly.

"I'm sorry, sir," Balthar apologized.

"Don't be, and don't ever call me sir again, kid," Colben demanded as he stood up.

"How will we be training then, Colben?" Balthar asked, somewhat confused.

"You'll be using this," Colben answered as he slammed a dented, metal shield towards the young man who caught it by the edges.

"But I never learned how to fight with a shield!" Balthar quickly brought up, examining the piece of metal in his hands.

"First off, when you fight when a shield, you just raise it to block an attack," Colben explained. "Secondly, we're not fighting! Now, I want you to keep that shield over your face at all times. Got it?"

"But there's no strap on it," Balthar told him.

"Hold it by the edges," Colben stated bluntly as he took a few steps away from him.

"Like this?" Balthar asked, holding the shield so that it covered the lower half of his face, including his mouth and nose.

"You need to cover your whole face with it," Colben corrected him as he turned to face the young man.

"But then I won't be able to see," Balthar complained.

"Honestly kid, it's better if you don't see," Colben told him. "Also, don't keep the shield so close to your face. Fully extend your arms out with it. You better be comfortable with this because I'm not stopping if you drop it."

Balthar gulped as he held the shield over his full face first and extended his arms out. He was not comfortable with this as Colben told him to be. It was incredibly hard to keep a grip on the edges of the shield and his arms would grow tire if he kept it up like this for so long. He questioned why the veteran had him trained like this until he heard his chanting. It was in a language he could not identify but thoughts of horror quickly arose. Balthar quickly pushed those thoughts away, hoping that this was not magic his opponent was realized.

Balthar realized how wrong he was as something impacted with the shield, nearly knocking it out of his hands. He could feel the heat coming off of the metal from where his fingertips were. Colben was using actual magic in his training session and did not hold back as he started chanting again to throw another fireball towards the shield. The young man was much more prepared, keeping a firm grip on the shield for the impact. He was glad that the shield concealed his view of the veteran as he was not certain if he would have the courage to stand still as a fireball was thrown at him.

Balthar prayed that he would be able to survive this first round of training as the third fireball struck his shield. With all of the weapons being old, he was somewhat convinced that this shield could break at any moment and the resulting fireball would burn his face off. He gulped, trying not to think too much about dying. Balthar just needed to hope that the shield would be able to hold out for this training. He started counting the seconds as the shield impacted with the fourth fireball. Half an hour was going to feel like an eternity.

* * *

 **A/N: So, with November being a few months away, I got curious, and ran a word count on the Google Doc where I type this story. With this entry, I have made it to 50,000 words, which is the goal for National Novel Writing Month, which I tried twice and failed both times. Of course, it took over six months to write this, so while I am prepared for the word count this time around, I still need to focus on the timing. Still, I feel like it is best to mark this as an important part of the story's history. (Some of the more observant readers might of noticed that I had more than 50,000 words before this chapter, but I'm not counting the Author's Notes like this).**

 **One final announcement: Regular updates will now be limited to Thursdays and Sundays. I shall be using Tuesdays to finalize my notes for my second Warcraft fanfic, which should be posted by early September.**

 **Until next time.**


	24. Making of a Hero

It had been two hours since the Vanguard finished their training, everyone now resting for the time. Dal'bin separated himself from the others, having moved up into the stands to think to himself. Looking down upon his comrades, old and new alike, he had to admit that uniting together was not such a bad idea. Gotur and Gregory's session ended in a draw but there was a clear change in the two. When they first met, they were at each other's throats as hated enemies. When the scout left, they were both exchanging stories of glorious battles they fought in, and from looking down from his position, it seemed that nothing had changed about that. He just hoped that the two warriors would not try to test who was better among them for awhile.

Turning his head to the side, Dal'bin took notice of Oliktalv, still giving tips to Balthar on how to improve his skill with a sword. During training, the human did not get any real practice in and the orc was unable to beat Naur in their spar. Kelvin declared their match a draw but only because the draenei did not bother attacking. He evaded each blow Oliktalv delivered without breaking a sweat. Had Naur try to press the offensive, he would of been able to take down the orc commander, despite the latter's skill with a blade.

Meanwhile, at the center campfire, everyone else was gathered, listening to one of Colben's war story, except for Salin, who was passed out near the group. When the Blood Knight started to improve in hand-to-hand combat, Dal'bin accidently knocked him out with a kick. Naur claimed that the elf would recover soon and Kelvin declared the troll the victor of the sparring match. He and Belara now listened to the old soldier's story with Kelvin interrupting every other sentence to explain what really happened. Colben was becoming popular with the others, which did not surprise Dal'bin. Not only was he technically responsible for the creations of the Vanguard but also happened to be quite charismatic.

Despite everyone being equal now, Dal'bin would still follow Oliktalv's final order, pushing his hatred of Colben aside for the time being. Still, he could not help but think about how strange his shift in behavior was. When the troll was near death, he recalled that the soldier was incredibly cold and very threatening. Now, that coldness had been replaced with justice and honor. Still, the scout could not help but suspect that he was only using the Vanguard to achieve his own goals. Colben showed no interest in the conflict in Hellfire, focusing only on keeping his new home safe. Once Illidan was dealt with, what would happen to the Vanguard?

"Dal'bin, I hope I'm not bothering you," a voice called out from behind him. "You seemed kind of lonely by yourself."

Dal'bin turned his head away from the stadium, glancing over his shoulder. Finnal stood behind him, smiling kindly towards him. He decided not to socialize with anyone from the Alliance, figuring that once Colben finished his business, the Vanguard would disband. Yet, that did not stop from the druid from seeing him. She was the only one from the opposing side to do so, even when he showed no interest in befriending her. Still, it would not be too terrible of an idea to have Finnal as a friend. She might prove to be a trustworthy ally in the future.

"Nah mon," Dal'bin told her, slowly turning around. "Just tryin' ta think, dat's all."

"Well, what's on your mind?" Finnal asked, curious.

"Nothin' ya would be interested in," Dal'bin answered bluntly.

"I still want to know," Finnal told him, crossing her arms. "We're friends, Dal'bin. I know that something is troubling your mind. Even if you think I can't help you, I want to try. That's what friends are for, right?"

"Ya think we be friends?" Dal'bin asked, looking down at her.

"Indeed!" Finnal exclaimed cheerfully. "We talk all the time whenever we're together. Not to mention that you saved my life from that demon commander awhile back ago. I guess I kind of owe you."

"Ya saved my life as well," Dal'bin reminded her. "I was left for dead back at da Legion Front. If ya didn't warn da Alliance ta help, I wouldn't be here. Ya don't owe me anythin', mon."

"Maybe you're right," Finnal sighed, closing her eyes as her arms swung over to her sides. "It's just that you were more heroic, risking your life to save me. I just passed along a message to Gregory."

"Ya got da wron' idea about me," Dal'bin told her. "I just be a soldier, mon, not a hero."

"You are though," Finnal argued, opening her eyes with determination. "You were brave not running away when faced against demons, selfless when you fought against the commander so I could escape, and even now, you are humble when I am talking about how great you are. That has all the makings of a hero to me."

Dal'bin blinked, listening to her words carefully. Finnal had a point when it came to describing his actions in the battle. Yet, a hero never failed, and recently, that is all Dal'bin could do. He failed when it came to fighting the nathrezim off and was almost killed by the demon. He failed at assassinating Deathrunner and was almost killed by the fel orc. Finnal was blinded by the small act of him saving her to realize that he was not a hero.

Dal'bin did admit that he was surrounded by real heroes though. Both Oliktalv and Gregory inspired their men to fight harder when they lead the charge into battle. Whenever Gotur faces another warrior, the match either ends in victory for the orc or a draw. Naur was equally skilled if not better than the orcish warrior. Salin was able to stand back up after taking a beating and still kept on smiling while Belara was able to take advantage of her opponent for a swift win. The scout did not wish to continue this conversation, wanting to move on, and knew that there was only going to be one way to change the topic.

"I was thinkin' about what'll happen ta da Vanguard," Dal'bin admitted, changing to topic. "Colben wants us ta deal with Illidan, but what happens once he be dead?"

"Well, we move on to deal with next threat," Finnal answered, giggling. "What kind of question is that?"

"What be da next threat then?" Dal'bin asked, crossing his arms. "If ya ask me, we're just doin' Colben's work for him. He be usin' us."

"Well, I'm not sure about the next threat, but maybe Colben has an idea on who we go after next," Finnal suggested, frowning.

"If he does, den why hasn't he told us?" Dal'bin continued, stepping closer to her. "Dis be da man who planned all of us meetin' here ta form da Vanguard. Yet, his end game be Illidan. He has no interest in anythin' outside of dis world!"

"Maybe you're right," Finnal admitted, looking down at the ground in defeat. "But do we really need him for the future? Don't you think the Vanguard can exist on Azeroth? I know that it's only been around for a short time but I believe in the cause. Not just about solving the problems on Outland but on Azeroth as well. Elune, I must be a fool."

"Don't say dat," Dal'bin commanded. "Da Vanguard isn't dat bad of an idea. Dis be da group dat'll take care of problems. Yet, my loyalty is ta Olikalv. If he stays, I stay. If he leaves, I leave."

"You know," Finnal started, looking up at Dal'bin. "A hero is also loyal to his friends as well. Maybe you're wrong and I'm right."

"Not dis again," Dal'bin muttered under his breath.

Before the two could continue, a horn was sounded off not too far from the stadium. Everyone in the center ring turned their attention east in surprise. They would not be able to see any advancing threats given their positions so Dal'bin knew exactly what to do. The scout quickly ran up the stands, leaving behind a shocked Finnal. He stopped at the top seats, turning towards the sound of the horn. He could make out a large force making their way towards the stadium, recognizing them as orcs from their formation. Yet, the Horde had no interest in claiming these ruins. That could only mean one thing.

"Da Fel Horde," Dal'bin whispered to himself, unholstering his rifle as he shouted off from the top of his lungs. "Da Fel Horde be comin' ta attack!"

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for both the tardiness and the short chapter, but I've been feeling a bit sick for the past week. Fortunately, I am now fine, and after I meet up with my grandparents this Sunday, I'll be ready to get back on schedule. I would like to note that with the next chapter being longer, the next update will be a bit longer. Also, I am pleased to announce that while I was on sick leave, Broken World has exceeded 2,000 views. Again, to those of you still reading, I hope you enjoy the story so far and continue to show support. If you feel the need to, then please, leave a review.**

 **Until next time.**


	25. Battle of the Stadium

Oliktalv unsheathed his swords, hearing Dal'bin's warning followed by gunshots fired from the troll's rifle. The Fel Horde showed no interest in claiming any of the western ruins. None of the factions had any intentions of claiming them. So, why did the Fel Horde change their mind about their conquest? Why would they waste their own soldier on such a useless fortification? Did they realize that Hellfire Citadel was a lost cause and sought to rejoin Illidan wherever he is? Or did they discover about the Vanguard and sought to eliminate them before they made their own move?

Oliktalv pushed his questions aside, focusing on analyzing the situation. Dal'bin was still shooting from the wall, now joined by Finnal, who had assumed her nightsaber form and roared loudly towards the fel orcs. To his side, Balthar tried unsheathing his own blade rather awkwardly. Despite the orc telling the young man tips on how to wield his sword properly, it seemed that the latter was not listening so well to the former. Gotur and Gregory both had their weapons out, turning and running towards the others, who were also preparing for battle. Oliktalv rushed to join the others, hoping that they had some sort of plan in mind.

"Damn it," Colben cursed under his breath.

"Dal'bin!" Oliktalv called out. "Tell us how many we're dealing with!"

"Dere be dozens of dem, mon!" Dal'bin called back, firing another shot off. "Dey be surroundin' both ways ta escape before dey attack."

"Well, that gives us a minute or two to plan and prepare," Oliktalv commented.

"Kelvin, give us an analysis," Gregory ordered. "What advantages do we have over our enemy?"

"We have no real advantage," Kelvin reported, a hint of fear in his voice. "I would say that the walls surrounding us would be enough protection from a proper siege, but we have no time to prepared."

"Not to mention that part of the wall is gone," Belara pointed out. "I say we fight our way out before they try swarming us."

"Some of us won't make it alive," Gregory stated darkly.

"None of us will make it out alive if we stay here," Belara shot back.

"She's right, sir," Kelvin joined in. "Retreat is most certainly our best option."

"You both have an excellent point," Gregory confessed.

"Bah, cowards, all of you!" Gotur exclaimed. "If I am to fall in battle, I shall do so facing my enemy instead of running. And I won't be fighting alone either."

"If the Vanguard cannot defend our own base, what chance do we stand against Hellfire Citadel?" Oliktalv asked, voice raised. "We stand our ground here!"

Oliktalv knew that they were outnumbered and that running would be better than fighting to his death here. Even if they did flee, there was no guarantee that they would be able to get far. Both the entrance tunnel and the hole in the wall led straight towards the fel orcs and there was not enough time to safely climb from the wall. Even if they did escape, where would they go? Oliktalv knew that going back to Thrallmar was no longer an option and thought the same applied to Gregory and Honor Hold. Colben may know of somewhere to go but the Fel Horde could always follow back. The Vanguard had to win this battle.

"This isn't our base, it's my home," Colben announced. "Those bastards don't know who they're messing with."

"If we are to go down fighting, then so be it," Gregory joined in.

"Well, do you have a plan on how we're going to survive?" Kelvin asked, frustrated. "Do any of you have a plan?"

"I'm the soldier, you're the tactician," Colben shrugged. "If we don't have a plan, then we don't have a plan. Simple as that."

"I need no plan to cut down my foes," Gotur grinned, gripping his weapon tighter.

"Our plan is to fight hard," Oliktalv declared. "Any objections?"

"Well, it's better than nothing," Belara stated bluntly.

"Uh, Naur might have a plan," Balthar pointed out. "He hasn't said anything but it looks like he's thinking."

Everyone's attention turned toward the vindicator, who as Balthar pointed out, had not said a single word during the entire exchange. His eyes were closed in deep thought as he stroke his chin tendrils calmly. Despite the situation they were in, Naur did not let his emotions cloud his judgement. Out of everyone in the group, he was the one who could think of a plan clearly. Oliktalv could only hope that the wise draenei had an idea in mind. After a few seconds, the vindicator opened his eyes, his hands resting to his side.

"Colben, do you have any rope?" Naur asked.

"Rope?" Colben repeated, confused. "I might have some buried underneath in the weapon pile if you don't mind searching."

"That's all I need to hear," Naur started. "Balthar, please hand your blade to Colben so you can search the tent for rope. With that, try to tie it to one of the flagpoles so we can climb down the back wall in case the battle does not turn well for us. Dal'bin and Finnal will provide protection. Gotur, you'll have to hold the fel orcs at the tunnel alone while everyone else defends the broken section of the wall. Depending on the situation, Salin and I will join whoever needs help the most once I wake him up."

"Dey be chargin' now!" Dal'bin warned, firing off rounds from his rifle faster.

The Vanguard heard footsteps coming in from the tunnel followed by war cries from outside the tunnel. Gotur grunted, charging towards the tunnel mouth, letting out his own roar as well. Naur knelt by Salin, the Light forming at his fingertips to begin healing the Blood Knight. Balthar quickly handed his sword over to Colben, who accepted it without hesitation. Unlike the young man, the soldier knew how to wield a blade better and would certainly take down many fel orcs in the upcoming battle.

With Balthar making his way towards Colben's tent, the remaining Vanguard began to rally. With all they have been through, Oliktalv was proud to stand alongside such skilled warriors. Even if he was to fall in battle today, he would have no regrets. And if they survived, the Vanguard would succeed in both their attack on Hellfire Citadel and, much later, slaying Illidan. Making their way towards the broken wall, they could see the mass of fel orcs charging, ready to meet the Vanguard in combat any second.

"Time to teach these bastards why it's a bad idea to attack my home," Colben grinned. "Whoe-"

"Lok'tar ogar!" Oliktalv interrupted, charging forward towards the fel orcs.

"For the Alliance!" Gregory shouted, joining the orc commander in his charge.

Oliktalv quickly swung one of his blades forward, slashing through a fel orc's throat. He quickly raised the other blade, blocking an incoming ax. Before he could retaliate against his attacker, Gregory quickly impaled him with a lung of his own sword. Turning back to the mass of fel orcs, he swung both blades in a vertical arc towards two more warriors. One fell down with a deep cut to his chest; the other wore more durable armor and held his ground, swinging down his ax towards his opponent. Oliktalv quickly pivoted his foot, turning away from the weapon while bringing his own blades forward to cut through the warrior's stomach. He cursed again as the armor held out against the lethal attack. The fel orc knocked him back by successfully throwing a punch towards his face.

Oliktalv snarled towards his opponent, who grinned madly. Before the two warriors could continue, Belara quickly slit the fel orc's throat open from behind, ending his life easily. Nodding to the dark ranger briefly, he raised one of his swords to block a mace. Afterwards, he quickly used his other blade to impale the fel orc completely through. With another warrior down, the orc took a defensive stance to counter the charge of his new opponent. Locking weapons with the fel orc, they eached tried to push against each other, neither gaining ground. Suddenly, Kelvin jumped next to Oliktalv, blade and pistol in hand. Aiming the latter, he quickly shot a fel orc trying to charge the orc commander from behind. With the warrior falling down to the ground, he turned around and slashed his blade towards the knees of the fel orc Oliktalv faced. The warrior fell down and was quickly decapitated by his opponent.

While the gnome reloaded his firearm, Oliktalv jabbed his blade forward, gutting another fel orc. With another opponent down, the orc dashed forward, swinging both blades towards another warrior who held his own mace too high preparing for an attack. Both blades cut through across the chest, bringing him down to the ground. A fel orc wielded two hatchets started to attack the orc commander with a flurry of slashes. Oliktalv met the warriors speed with his own, countering each slash while waiting for an opening. With no opening presenting itself, he knew that he would have to make his own. Blocking one ax, Oliktalv quickly swung his other blade towards the arm. The fel orc screamed in pain as his severed arm dropped to the ground before being silenced with his opponent stabbing his sword through his skull.

Taking a brief moment to rest, Oliktalv took up a defensive stance, again, looking around the battlefield. The fel orcs' numbers were dwindling, with plenty of corpses scattered across the ground, but they still outnumbered their prey greatly. Gregory and Belara stood side by side, holding their own against more attackers. Much to his surprise, Kelvin stood alone not too far away, making quick work of any warrior that underestimates his skill with his swords. Colben was towards the stadium, his back faced against the wall. Already, he took down many fel orcs with his recently acquired sword, and like Oliktalv, was taking a moment to analyze the battle.

"They just keep coming!" Colben shouted over the heat of battle, throwing another fireball towards a charging fel orc, setting him aflame. "Fall back to the stadi- Gah!"

He was interrupted as a fel orc swung a large battle ax towards his side. Green ichor now dripped from the ax head and from the gaping wound on Colben's side. He grimaced in pain, dropping his sword, but still stood, quickly backing away from his opponent and up against the wall. Everyone else started to fight their way back towards the stadium, unable to help him. Except for Oliktalv. He started to run towards the two and quickly realized who Colben faced. Anger boiled in the orc as he recognized the ax the warrior wielded and the dark armor he wore. Yet, ultimately, it was the cowardly tactic that gave his identity away.

"Deathrunner!" Oliktalv called out during his charge.

Brak'thur turned his head towards the call, grinning to himself. He turned to face his new opponent, allowing for Colben to limp away towards the stadium. Still charging, Oliktalv struck down any fel orc that tried to get in his way with ease. Ever since they first gave Brak'thur his nickname, the commanders of the Horde kept creating different plans to take down the fel orc commander. Yet, each attempt on his life failed when their target ran away from his fate rather than meeting death head on. This time, there would be no running. This time, Deathrunner would meet his end.

Meeting his opponent, Oliktalv swung his blades down towards his shoulders. With ease, Brak'thur blocked the swords by raising the shaft of his battle ax while kicking back the warrior. Grunting, he continued to press the assault, not willing to relent. Again, the fel orc was able to block the blows his opponent unleashed, sticking on the defensive. Oliktalv knew that his opponent would wear down eventually.

Yet, Brak'thur was able to take advantage of Oliktalv's bloodlust, and after blocking another attack, kicked his opponent back again. This time, instead of waiting for the warrior to recover, he charged forward, swinging his ax towards his opponent's chest. The orc was forced to jump back to avoid the reach of the ax yet the fel orc did not stop his charge. Oliktalv found himself fighting off his opponent while retreating to join the others at the stadium. He made a dire mistake underestimating the fel orc. He was a coward but also had the skill to fight rather well.

Suddenly, Oliktalv tripped over a leg of a fallen fel orc warrior, landing on his back with a grunt. He quickly rolled onto his chest to avoid Brak'thur swinging his ax down on his, standing up. He only got onto his knees when the fel orc kicked his opponent in the chest, pushing him back down on his back and knocking the air from his lungs. The orc coughed while Brak'thur stomped down on one of his hands, nearly breaking it and forcing him to drop his sword. Oliktalv tried stabbing his other sword up towards his opponent but only scratched his armor. The fel orc grabbed the raised hand and forced the blade out of his grip.

"In the end, your bloodlust was what killed you," Deathrunner taunted, planting his boot down on Oliktalv's chest while he resisted. "You became so obsessed with my death that you were separated from the rest of this pathetic excuse for a band of warriors."

"We are more than a band of warriors!" a voice exclaimed. "We are the Vanguard!"

Oliktalv turned his head towards the familiar voice, quickly seeing Salin, grinning towards the fel orc while wielding a metal quarterstaff, likely from Colben's collection. Naur, hoisting a large maul over his shoulder, stood behind him, having just finished off another fel orc that tried to attack the duo. The remaining Vanguard was behind them, forming a defensive circle with more fel orcs preparing to charge. Turning back towards Deathrunner, he saw more fel orcs charging, ready to attack the Blood Knight and Vindicator. Snarling, Brak'thur raised his ax up, ready to finish off his opponent.

Salin quickly dashed forward, blocking the ax head with his staff, a clang echoing in the heat of battle. Oliktalv quickly pushed the boot off of his chest while the Blood Knight pushed forward, knocking the fel orc back. The blood elf continued his assault, jumping over the downed orc to swing his weapon down on his opponent. Oliktalv raised to his knees, grabbing both of his swords while seeing a fel orc charge right at him. Yet, Naur swung his maul towards the orc, striking his chest to knock him down. The warrior groaned in pain before the vindicator swung down, crushing his skull. Oliktalv stood up, nodding in acknowledgement to the draenei's action.

"Come, friend, we should join the others," Naur directed. "The fel orcs will overwhelm us if we stand alone."

"You're right," Oliktalv nodded. "Salin! Fall back!"

"You can't be serious!" Salin complained, blocking another attack from Brak'thur before kicking him back. "I just started to fight Deathrunner! He's not that big of a threat as I was told, truth be told!"

"He's just going to run when you start to beat him," Oliktalv told him with a grunt. "Now, fall back with us!"

"If you insist on it," Salin sighed, backing away from his opponent. "I hate to cut this short, Deathrunner, but I have much more skilled opponents to fight. Such as your Warchief."

"Bah, you will not live to see him!" Brak'thur shouted while the three started to run off. "Did you think that I would let someone like that rotting corpse walk on this world while he gathered followers? You shall fall here for follo-"

A bullet deflected off his chestplate, followed by another one striking his shoulder to no avail. The third struck Brak'thur in the neck, blood flying from his throat as he collapsed onto the ground. Oliktalv turned his head to the stands and clearly saw Dal'bin aiming his rifle towards them. He was glad that the fel orc met his end and it was only fitting that it would be the scout to strike the coward down. He did not deserve a warrior's death.

Finnal, to the side of Dal'bin, roared loudly. Turning his head, Oliktalv could make out about a dozen warriors making their way to the stands, weapons raised. The druid charged forward while the scout turned around, opening fire upon his new opponents. He also noticed that those fel orcs were not the only ones to break from the main group. More poured down into the interior side of the tunnel, hoping to catch Gotur off guard. Oliktalv wanted to help them but decided against it. Each one of them would be able to hold their own.

The trio made it to the defensive circle the others formed and quickly took their place among the Vanguard. They all surrounded Colben, who chanted loudly to form two fireballs in each hand. The seven now faced the remaining fel orcs as they made their way towards battle. Oliktalv grinned, now believing that they could win against the opposing warriors. Letting out a war cry, he took up a defensive stance while the fel orcs surround the circle. With the enemy now beginning their final assault, it was time to end this battle.

Oliktalv swung one of his blades down, severing the arm of one of the fel orcs. The warrior screamed in pain before he was impaled through the chest. To both of his sides, Naur and Salin fended off their respective opponents and he was certain the others were doing so as well. Oliktalv raised his blades to catch an ax before it could hit him, kicking the opposing warrior's knee. The warrior buckled down as he brought both of his swords down on the fel orc's exposed back. He then sidestepped to avoid a mace striking down at him, quickly decapitating his new attacker.

Two fel orcs attacked the orcish warrior at once, their axes striking down towards him. Oliktalv raised his swords to block the two attacks but could not retaliate, the weapons now locked together. Being pushed back by the two warriors, he dug his heels into the ground, trying to resist them. A fireball struck one of the fel orcs in the face, breaking the bladelock as he fell down onto his knees in agony. Oliktalv quickly stabbed his freed sword through the remaining fel orc to end his life. Afterwards, he quickly executed the warrior that was set aflame, ending his misery.

Oliktalv prepared to face his next opponent, taking a defensive stance, yet realized that the battle was over. The few fel orcs that remained tried to retreat only to be shot down by Dal'bin, who managed to take care of the attackers from earlier with Finnal's help. Gotur emerged from the tunnel, his armor covered in the blood of his enemies but remained unscathed himself. Turning towards the remaining Vanguard, he saw that they too survive the battle, although both Gregory and Belara suffered injuries during the fight along with Colben.

"We did it," Oliktalv whispered to himself. "We survived."

"Aye, but now I have a huge mess to clean up!" Colben complained, motioning towards the corpses.

Looking upon the dead, Oliktalv knew that alone, none of them would have been able to kill so many fel orcs. Together, the Vanguard was able to stand their ground and hold out against an enemy that outnumbered. Now, all of his doubts were cast away. The orcish warrior was now certain that whatever came next, the Vanguard would succeed. It would only be a matter of time until they proved that again with their attack upon Hellfire Citadel.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, after a long break, Broken World is back on schedule. The goal is to finish this before the year is over, which should be pretty easy now that we're approaching the final battle. I hoped you enjoyed the Vanguard's first real battle and keep on reading. As always, feel free to leave a review if you want.**

 **Until next time!**


	26. Change in Plans

"Grah!" Colben screamed before gritting his rotting teeth in pain.

Balthar gazed upon the scene before him with worried eyes. He met up with the others right as Naur asked who needed healing. Colben was the first to volunteer. Despite the vindicator and Belara pointing out that the Light would hurt him, he insisted on it. Cautiously, the draenei approached the old soldier, placing a hand on his shoulder before calling upon the Light to heal his injury.

As predicted, the Light smited Colben, who, although had the best intentions, was still a rotting abomination. After the initial pain, he regained his composure somewhat. It was clear that he was holding back screams and held both of his hands in fists. Yet, the young man could see that his devastating wound was closed. Once it completely closed, Naur released his grip on the mage, backing away. Colben immediately fell down onto his knees, still holding back a scream. Then, to everyone's confusion, he started laughing hysterically.

"Colben, your injury may be healed, but I still must ask if you are well," Naur told him calmly.

"Don't worry about me," Colben grinned, standing up. "Thanks. I really needed that."

"Very well, I shall go to heal Gregory," Naur smiled before turning to leave.

"You really needed that?" Belara asked from behind Balthar. "You really needed that torture? For what?"

Turning his head behind, Balthar looked towards the dark ranger. She was injured during the battle, a fel orc driving his ax deeply into her shoulder blade. Unlike Colben, Belara did not want the Light to heal her, knowing the effects it has on her kind. Instead, Salin was behind her, stitching up the injury with tools provided by the dark ranger. Either this was not the first time she was injured in the field or she was prepared for this situation.

"Well, this torture, as you so call it, reminds me that I'm not an abomination," Colben told her bluntly. "Pain hurts, but it reminds me there's some humanity left in me."

"Sounds to me like you haven't moved on," Belara shot back. "I've accepted that I'm one of the damned now. I may not like it but I can't change it."

"I accepted my fate," Colben corrected her. "That doesn't mean I'm going to move on from my old life. Why else do you think I keep telling old war stories?"

"They're quite good, but mine are better," Salin bragged with a grin while he continued his work.

"You didn't even fight in any wars, Salin," Belara replied bitterly.

"But you fought in wars, right?" Balthar asked, intrigued.

"Indeed I have," Belara answered.

"Then you have to tell a war story," Colben demanded. "I'm interested in hearing a tale of a battle you fought in."

"I'm not telling you anything," Belara declined. "I've moved on from my old life."

"You can say such, but I don't believe it," Colben shrugged. "Yet, you knew Salin from when you're alive, and you go out of your way to keep him alive. Now, if he were to die, you would lose a part of your living self."

"If I didn't look after the idiot, he would get himself killed," Belara stated bluntly.

"I fought Deathrunner off with a metal stick," Salin joked, stepping away once he was finished with the stitching. "I think I am more than capable enough of watching after myself."

"Brak'thur and I are like you two," Colben noted. "Before Gregory and Kelvin showed up, he was the only connection I had to my past life, so I kept him alive. Now, I can finally end his life. He's going to pay for attacking me when I wasn't looking."

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but you won't be able to kill him," Salin informed him. "Dal'bin shot him during the battle. At least now he can't run from death anymore. "

"Damn it," Colben cursed under his breath, walking away. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Balthar asked, curious.

"I'm going to give him a proper funeral," Colben answer without emotion. "He deserves better than to rot with the rest of those bastards. For a fel orc, he wasn't so bad. Sure, he kept trying to kill me on several occasions but so did I. Water under the bridge."

Colben walked off towards the battle site, where the remaining members of the Vanguard, excluding them, Naur and Gregory. Kelvin directed the others in clearing the corpses from the stadium. Balthar was somewhat glad that they were moving the bodies out of sight but wished there was some funeral rites they could give them rather than leaving them to rot. Still, he was too nervous to bring it up. While in thought, the trio was joined by Naur and Gregory, who was now healed from his injuries. Already, the young man could see the glare his mentor was giving him.

"Where is your sword?" Gregory asked with haste.

"Colben borrowed it, remember?" Balthar answered, trying to stand his ground by looking at his mentor with confidence.

"And it's still your sword," Gregory told him sternly. "Now, last I saw him, Colben didn't have it. So, where is it?"

"I don't know," Balthar confessed, his gaze slowly turning to the ground.

"In his defense, Colben would be better off with that blade," Naur noted in defense.

"Well, he'll have to go without it when we face Kargath," Gregory countered. "Now, go and get it. I want you to get an actual training session in before we leave."

"Yes sir," Balthar consented, walking away.

"Allow me to help, my friend," Naur volunteered, stepping forward. "Finding a single blade on the battlefield may be more challenging than you believe."

"Thank you, Naur," Balthar whispered.

"Now hold on!" Gregory interrupted. "I told the lad that he would be the one going to fetch his sword. He doesn't need help."

"Well, since we are in the Vanguard, you cannot order me to stop," Naur pointed out with a grin.

"And please don't waste our valuable time calling a vote on this matter," Belara joined in.

"Damn," Gregory muttered under his breath, defeated. "Fine, go with him, but I'm only training Balthar."

"I shall also come," Salin decided. "No offense intended, but I believe that those embarking on this task will make for better company than those staying."

"Then go," Belara shrugged. "It'll be a relief with you gone, even if it's only for a moment."

"I shall keep that in mind the next time you ask for me to stitch you back together again," Salin chuckled.

The three made their way out of the stadium. Balthar smiled to himself, enjoying the company he had with him despite the silence. Naur was his closest friend, advisor, and soon-to-be mentor. Remembering their earlier conversation, the young man wondered if their talk with Gregory would come after their battle in Hellfire Citadel. As for Salin, he had little interaction with the Blood Knight, but ever since their first meeting in the stadium, he left a lasting impression. Compared to the other warriors from the Horde, Balthar figured that he would get along best with the blood elf.

Now outside of the stadium, the three found themselves alone except for Colben, who was still searching for Brak'thur. The other members of the Vanguard were towards the interior of the stadium and inside the entrance tunnel, clearing out the corpses. They began their search for the missing sword, and, as Naur predicted, it proved to be somewhat challenging. Fortunately, it only took a few minutes of searching until Salin called out for the other two.

"I found it over here!" Salin announced, briefly reaching for the ground before hesitating. "I'd give it to you, Balthar, but I'd rather not risk the wrath of your mentor. Surely, you of all people would understand."

"I do understand," Balthar agreed, holding back laughter. "I'm coming, and thank you."

Balthar made his way over to join the Blood Knight, picking his sword up from the ground. The blade of it was dried with dark blood and dirt much to his displeasure. He briefly shook some of the dirt off but the blood remained. With water, it would be easy to clean it. Yet, the Vanguard would have to save their water, only having a few flasks of it. The young man figured it was best not to complain, remembering that Gotur's armor was covered in blood and there was nothing the orc could do to clean it. Then again, he did not seem to care about the mess in the first place.

"This is a blade that has seen many battles," Salin commented. "You should be proud to wield such a weapon."

Balthar shrugged at the compliment, turning to see Naur talking to Colben. After the draenei pointed to the ground, the young man saw an immediate shift in the mage's behavior. He was clearly enraged, his voice rising while their conversation continued. Balthar quickly made his way towards the two with Salin following behind. Looking towards the ground, he quickly made out what appeared to be drag marks with two sets of footsteps to each side. He gulped, wondering what this meant for the Vanguard.

"Uh, excuse me, but is something wrong?" Balthar asked nervously.

"Damn right there is," Colben told him harshly. "Brak'thur got away."

"And he'll make a full recovery after being shot in his neck," Salin said sarcastically. "Even if his comrades dragged him away, he'll very likely bleed to death before they can reach a healer, if he's not already in whatever afterlife the orcs have. Problem solved."

"Problem not solved," Naur corrected calmly. "If he can pass along a message to one of his saviors, it could have dire consequences for us."

"Dire consequences?" Balthar asked, confused.

"Well, with someone bragging that the Vanguard was coming to kill the Fel Horde's Warchief," Colben shot a glare towards Salin. "This message could make our job so much harder now."

"This is terrible," Balthar realized. "The Fel Horde will be waiting for us in Hellfire Citadel."

"This just means we have a bigger challenge to overcome!" Salin exclaimed. "I have yet to see a downside to this new development."

"The downside is me breaking your damn nose for ruining everything!" Colben threaten, trying to charge the Blood Knight only for Naur to grab him.

"Peace, friend," Naur advised. "If we turn on each other now, then we have failed already. We need to tell the others about this and leave for Hellfire Citadel at once. The less time we give the Fel Horde to wait, the better our odds of success are."

"Fine," Colben agreed, calming down slightly. "I'll tell the others there's been a change in plan."

"I shall come as well!" Salin volunteered. "I want everyone to hear my side of the story."

"Your side of the story?" Colben asked, annoyed. "We're going to tell them exactly what happened. I'm not going to give you the chance to make yourself look like a grand hero when you're not!"

The two left towards the stadium, bickering between the two. Balthar could not help himself but worry over their situation. The only advantage the Vanguard had over the Fel Horde was the element of surprise but that was now gone. Excluding himself, everyone was skilled when it came to fighting. Yet, skill could only go so far when faced with an enemy with greater numbers. He lost his train of thought when Naur placed his hand on the young man's shoulder, gripping it lightly.

"Do not be afraid," Naur comforted his friend. "We survived this battle and we will survive the next one."

"The Vanguard may survive," Balthar agreed. "But will I? I'm not as skilled as everyone else is when it comes to fighting. Until you start training me, I'm just holding everyone back."

"You will survive," Naur answered. "Colben isn't the only one who has been thinking of a plan."

Balthar did not understand what Naur was talking about when referring to his own plan but did not need to. All he needed was some reassurance from a trusted friend. Slowly, he sheathed his stained sword, nodding to the vindicator. Their plan for attack was changing but he was certain that the Vanguard would succeed. He was no warrior, but like Naur, he will do whatever it takes to protect his friends and comrades.

* * *

 **A/N: We are now approaching the Battle of Hellfire Citadel, which means that Broken World is coming close to its finale. It may take a bit long since Thursdays are now no longer an option for updates due to a change in my schedule. I look forward to finishing my first story on this site and hope you've enjoyed the story so far.**

 **Until next time!**


	27. Scaling the Wall

Through his rifle's scope, Dal'bin spied upon the enemy fortress grimly. Despite everyone blaming Salin for their rushed plan, he blamed himself. He thought his shot was good enough to put an end to the cowardly fel orc, but in the end, Deathrunner survived. To make matters worst, the scout fell for the oldest trick in the book: playing possum. Next time they met, the troll would make sure to take two shots. The first one to kill him. The second to make sure he stays dead.

Unfortunately, Dal'bin did not have the ammo for that at the moment. After the battle of the stadium, he was down to twelve bullets. With Oliktalv believing that they are traitors for leaving the Horde, the scout knew that there was no going back to Thrallmar. For now, he would save his ammo, using it when it is absolutely necessary when facing the demon powering the fel orcs. He would still use his rifle for scouting purposes but was forced to fight with a spear for now.

Dal'bin counted eight guards on the back wall, lowering his rifles. With Honor Hold and Thrallmar facing Hellfire Citadel in the east, Kelvin concluded that for their massive assault, they should strike from behind the fortress towards the west. It would be where the fel orcs least expect an attack for now. When the Fel Horde started to counter the invaders, Oliktalv and the others would sneak in from the south, find Kargath and end him. Meanwhile, the rest of the Vanguard would make have finished the demon off and everyone would make their escape, leaving the Fel Horde leaderless.

Nodding, he stood up long enough to turn around and crouch back down so the guards failed to see him. Everyone else was similarly lowered, except for Kelvin, who had no need to get down due to his height and was working on a new invention. Colben and Salin were crouched down as well with Naur taking a knee to the left of the scout, using his maul to support himself. Finnal sat with her legs crossed to the right of Dal'bin while Belara laid down on the ground, looking out towards the fortress. Excluding her and the gnomish tactician, everyone looked expectantly at the troll, waiting for his report.

"Dere be eight of dem," Dal'bin announced to everyone. "It should be easy enough ta take dem out before dey find us out."

"I'd say shoot them, but we're trying to get their attention, not sneak in," Colben reminded them. "And we should be inside of that fortress before we sound any alarms."

"They'll see us coming before we can get inside," Kelvin brought up, still working on his invention. "The most logical thing to do would be to kill them now while we remain undetected."

"Do you think you can do it, Dal'bin?" Finnal asked.

"Without soundin' da alarm? Maybe," Dal'bin answered with a shrug. "It be da way dey be positioned."

"Well, we could always split up again," Salin offered with a grin. "Those fel orcs won't see that coming, right?"

"While we're brainstorming, does anyone else have any plans that won't get us killed?" Colben asked harshly.

"Actually, if you think about it, Salin may be right," Naur said. "Our goal is to draw the fel orc's attention away from Kargath while searching for the demon that empowers the Fel Horde. By splitting up and attacking multiple spots at once, we not only gain their attention, but can cover more ground in our search."

"And by attacking different places at the same time, the Fel Horde will be even more divided," Salin quickly added. "You need to stop underestimating my intelligence, Colben."

"I'm considering it, but only because Naur is vouching for it," Colben shot back. "Kelvin. Belara. What do you two think?"

"The plan works in theory," Kelvin started. "Yet, we must consider that since there are seven of us, splitting up could put us even more at risk. Our task already qualifies as a suicide mission so why should we make it harder?"

"So we can one day share this grand tale to impress everyone at whatever tavern we find ourselves at," Salin answered, although it was hard to tell if he was joking or serious.

"So, to summarize, we're going to die either way?" Colben asked the tactician.

"Indeed we are," Kelvin answered. "I've been trying to tell ever-"

"The plan works," Belara interrupted, still spying upon the citadel. "We'll split up into three groups. Dal'bin and Finnal will take care of the guards on the wall and work their way from there. Colben, go wherever you want to go with Naur and Salin. Kelvin, you're with me. I have my own plan for getting in now."

"Shouldn't we be taking a vote on this?" Finnal reminded everyone.

"Not during a battle," Colben answered. "For the sake of of it, every time we split up for a battle, each group will have a captain. For the groups we already have, the captains will be myself, Belara, and-"

"Dal'bin, right?" Finnal quickly suggested.

"I was going to say you two can pick, but that works," Colben shrugged. "Kelvin, leave behind that tool you've been working on for the scouts. Time to break into the citadel."

Everyone excluding the two scouts stood up and started to split up. Colben led his team south while Belara made her way north. Kelvin looked up from his invention briefly, setting it down gently on the ground before following the dark ranger. Dal'bin picked up the tool, observing it carefully. With scrap metal from the stadium and rope used before, the tactician made a grappling hook to scale the wall. Of course, the gnome claimed that his "prototype" may fall apart, and there was no way to launch the hook yet, but the troll was already forming a plan in his mind.

Dal'bin was surprised by being made one of the captains for their current mission. He had shown no experience in leadership before, only following orders given to him. He thought that they would both be separated into the other two groups but that was not the case. Still, the troll was only going to have to lead one person and Finnal seemed capable enough on her own. His leadership would come down to guiding their way through Hellfire Citadel, something he did not mind too much.

"So, what's the plan, captain?" Finnal asked jokingly.

"We need ta scale da wall," Dal'bin answered, still looking at the grappling hook. "Dis won't be of much use."

"Well, I can fly up to the top and set it for you to climb," Finnal offered.

"Da rope won't be lon' enough," Dal'bin noted. "I can try climbin' my way ta it but only if dere be loose stones on da fortress."

"Well, just tell me where to fly and I'll have it set up for you," Finnal told him. "You can count on me."

Turning back to the citadel, Dal'bin placed the grappling hook back on the ground and took aim with his rifle. The scout looked for somewhere low on the wall that he could climb up with ease until he grabbed the rope. After a few moments, the troll found the perfect spot: a tower towards the southern end of the wall. It was short compared to the northern tower and only had one guard at the top. It should be easy enough for Finnal to dispatch the fel orc and set the grappling hook up. Meanwhile, all he had to do was climb it and help dispatch the remaining sentries on the wall.

` "I need ya ta go ta dat tower and set da grapplin' hook," Dal'bin ordered. "I can make my way up from dere."

Finnal, having assume her flight form during his scouting, chirped loudly in agreement to the plan. She grabbed the grappling hook with her claws and flew towards the tower. Dal'bin stood up, holstering his rifle before making his way up to the tower. He did not bother hiding himself, figuring the fel orcs would not worry about one troll if they saw him coming. The scout was certain that if Finnal could have the grappling hook ready for him, he would be able to climb up the tower with no problem.

Making it to the base of the tower, Dal'bin took a closer look of the stone. Since it was built long ago, some stones stuck out. Yet, the troll knew that even with it being possible, climbing up would be very dangerous. If he fell too high up, the fall would certainly kill him. He could survive with some broken bones but would be out of action for both the battle ahead and their future task. He could not afford to fail.

Grabbing hold of some of the loose stones, Dal'bin started to climb his way up. He took his time, making sure that each stone he grabbed was not too loose that it would fall off from the tower. The scout made sure not to look down either, not knowing how far he had climbed when he made it to the rope. He grabbed hold of the rope with both hands while keeping his feet on the tower, making his way up the tower much faster. Eventually, the troll made his way to the top, climbing over the ledge and onto the stone floor.

Finnal, having assumed her nightsaber form, roared loudly towards her friend. To her right, on the ground, was the fel orc sentry, the blood from his neck still pouring. Dal'bin had to admit that he was impressed with the druid's skill. Knowing her personally, she never seemed like the type to be able to kill so easily. Yet, the night elf proved him wrong. The scout was glad to fight by her side in the upcoming battle.

Finnal roared again, turning her head to the side away from the dead fel orc. Dal'bin followed her gaze, seeing the other sentries charging towards the tower, shouting out their war cries. The scout frowned, having forgotten that he could have been spotted while climbing. With one of them sounding the alarm with a horn, the troll knew that it was too late to fix his mistake. Pulling out his spear, Dal'bin started to run off towards the enemy warriors. Finnal quickly chased after her friend, quickly outrunning him into battle.

Finnal pounced onto the lead sentry, pinning him to the ground while clawing at his face with her claws. Dal'bin ran passed her, jabbing his spear forward, impaling the next fel orc through the chest. Pushing the fallen warrior off with his foot, he raised his spear to catch the blade of the ax before it could hit him. Backing off, he pivoted around his foot to avoid the next attack, swinging the shaft of his spear to knock the fel orc down to the floor. Without hesitating, he finished his foe off by stabbing his spear down to pierce the warrior through the skull.

Finnal quickly charged pass Dal'bin, having already finished off her second opponent and began to make her way towards the remaining sentries, who were still making their way from further down the wall. The troll followed, struggling to keep up with the druid as a nightsaber. She dashed forward, sweeping her paws to bring another fel orc down. Afterwards, she bit down hard on his neck with the sentry resisting. The troll jumped over the two, landing to face two other sentries in battle.

Dal'bin raised his spear, blocking their ax and mace. Backing off, he blocks the attack from the mace wielding warrior before pushing him back. With the ax wielder charging, the troll quickly jabbed his spear, piercing him through the heart. Pulling his spear out, the scout was quick enough to stab his spear forward towards the remaining opponent, yet his armor deflected the attack. Unphased by the attack, the fel orc continued his attack, swinging his mace down. Dal'bin backed off although the spikes on the weapon pierced his right arm badly. Shrugging, the troll blocked another attack, and taking a different approach to fighting his opponent off, kicked him towards the ledge. The sentry staggered with the scout ramming his shoulder into him, sending the fel orc plummeting to his death.

The next sentry still charged his way towards the duo, raising a war ax. Dal'bin quickly realized that this was the final fel orc and threw his spear towards the fel orc. The warrior collapsed onto the ground with the troll being thankful that the now dead orc did not fall off the wall. With the battle over for now, the scout turned around to face Finnal. The druid had returned to her elven form and sat with her legs crossed next to the fallen fel orc. She wiped her mouth off with the sleeve, spitting out some blood.

"Ugh, fel orc blood tastes a lot like demons," Finnal complained, looking up at Dal'bin.

"Dey drink demon blood, mon," Dal'bin reminded her.

"I know," Finnal shrugged, her eyes quickly growing with alarm. "Are you alright? Your bleeding from your arm."

"I'll be fine," Dal'bin told her. "My regeneration will heal da wound soon. We need ta get inside before dey start comin' ta us."

"Sounds like a plan," Finnal nodded, raising her hand up towards the troll. "Mind giving me a hand?"

Dal'bin nodded in reply, grabbing her hand and pulling the druid back onto her feet. Finnal smiled lightly at her friend, opening her mouth to say something. Yet, the troll released his grip on her and walked away, breaking out in a sprint further down along the wall. She closed her mouth and followed the troll. Running pass the final sentry, Dal'bin pulled his spear from his neck, keeping it in one hand as he makes his way toward the northern tower. From there, they would make their way into the citadel and slay the demon fueling the fel orcs. For his first task as a leader, everything was going smoothly so far.

* * *

 **A/N: And so begins the final arc of Broken World: the Siege on Hellfire Citadel. Ran the numbers through my head and we have about six chapters left. So, going to a weekly update, it'll take about a month and a half to finish this story.**

 **Until next time!**


	28. Blind

Colben led the way deeper into the citadel, the fire on the palm of his hand helping light up the dimly lit hallway. Salin followed after the mage with Naur covering up the rear. Getting inside of Hellfire Citadel had been easy enough, quickly dispatching the guards that stood in their way. No alarms had been raised yet which should be seen as a good omen. Despite knowing that paranoia was a flaw of his, Colben knew that something was wrong. There was no possible way that he could sneak into a fortress so easily.

The halls were void of any fel orcs or their demonic allies. There was nothing stopping the trio from continuing onward. Of course there would be no alarms raised if there were no guards to begin with. Colben knew that meant two things. The first option is that the fel orcs were caught unprepared. Yet, the mage knew that was very unlikely. That only left one possibility left, one which may be the end of the Vanguard. He held his flameless hand up, opening the palm of his hand to signal a stop. Afterwards, he turned to face his allies, frowning lightly.

"We're walking into a trap," Colben told them. "We should have encountered another guard already. They know we're coming and they're waiting.

"Or perhaps they were all killed off," Salin suggested. "Before you sought him, Oliktalv had a solid plan in weakening the Fel Horde. It's possible that it worked better than we imagined."

"I doubt that's the case," Coblen responded, rolling his eyes.

"Many fel orcs fell back at the Stadium too," Salin added, ignoring Colben. "We vanquished hundred of warriors during that battle!"

"Right, you're no help," Colben stated harshly. "Naur, what do you think?"

"No help?" Salin asked in surprise.

"It's true that Hellfire Citadel is weaken," Naur started. "With the Horde's actions against the Fel Horde, Brak'thur's failed siege on the stadium, and you wiping out a group of raiders by yourself, our enemy needs time to recover."

"See, I told you!" Salin interrupted, grinning for a moment before his jaw dropped slightly. "Wait, Colben, you fought off a band of fel orc raiders by yourself?"

"Indeed, and keep that in mind the next time you interrupt me," Colben threaten the Blood Knight before turning back to Naur. "You were saying?"

"Despite the blows the Fel Horde suffered, they should still hold the numbers to occupy their fortress," Naur continued. "Something is wrong, but I don't believe that we're walking into a trap. If we were, it would not be so obvious as it is now."

"Then what in the Twisting Nether is going on here?" Colben voiced his thoughts aloud to the group.

"That is something we have yet to discover," Naur answered, closing his eyes.

"Uh, do you tw-" Salin started, perking his head up.

"What did I tell you about interrupting me?" Colben asked rhetorically, waving his enflamed hand towards the elf.

"Pay attention!" Salin ordered with conviction in his voice.

Colben swung his hand towards the Blood Knight, who raised his arms in defense. Yet, Naur, eyes now opened, was able to grab the mage's wrist, stopping his assault. Before he could speak, the vindicator quickly placed a finger from his free hand on Colben's decayed lips, motioning for him to be silent. He took only a moment, having grown tired of Salin's foolishness when he heard something coming down the hallway. He turned his head towards it, nodding his head slowly.

Naur returned the nod, releasing his grip on Colben's wrist. Motioning for silence, Colben led the way through the hallway, coming upon a ramp. It spinned down to a lower, glass floor. Looking down from it, they could clearly make out a half a dozen fel orc warriors wandering around the chamber. Crouching down with the others, Colben focused his gaze upon the orc in the center. Unlike the others, he wore no armor and carried no weapon, only wearing a pair of dark, ragged robes. He chanted an unknown spell loudly, being the source of noise that they were able to discover.

"Good catch, Salin," Naur whispered quietly. "If you weren't paying attention, we could have been ambushed."

"Well, in all honestly, I only heard them because I wasn't trying to listen to you two speak," Salin confessed.

"Well, doesn't matter," Colben shrugged. "If you two can take on the grunts, I should be able to beat their sorcerer down. We might be able to interrogate him for information."

"Good thinking, Colben," Naur told him. "We'll keep you covered."

"Those fel orcs won't stand a chance against us," Salin agreed.

The three rose, slowly making their way down the ramp. Their footsteps, along with Colben's chanting to form a second fireball, alerted the fel orcs. The warriors were clearly surprised by their arrival, taking a moment to reach for their weapons. Yet, he noticed that the warlock did not share his comrade's surprise, stopping his chant to grin. The fel orcs formed a defensive half circle around their superior, ready to confront the intruders. Colben stopped, finishing his chant with a second fireball consuming his free hand while his two comrades continued on.

Naur swung his maul down upon the lead warrior, crushing the fel orc's skull to begin the fight. With the vindicator and Salin protecting him, Colben focused on the warlock, tossing one of his fireballs towards the fel orc. The opposing sorcerer threw an unholy shield around himself, countering the fireball at the cost of his magical defenses. Colben grinned, throwing his other fireball and setting the warlock's robes aflame. Both started to chant loudly, preparing new spells. The veteran decided to focus on offense, intending to keep to keep his opponent on the defense.

Colben's chanting was interrupted by a sudden surge of pain throughout his body. The pain swelled with the veteran screaming in pain, falling down onto his knees. Now, the warlock grinned, continuing the chant despite his robes being on fire. Colben expected for his opponent to work on dispelling the magical fire and not casting a curse. He tried chanting once more only to let out another scream of pain. The veteran's sense to pain had dulled over the years but now returned as the affliction continued to inflict suffering upon its victim.

Fortunately, the warlock was too focused on his sadistic torture and forgot they were in a bigger battle. All the fel orcs protecting him had fallen, leaving him exposed. Salin charged forward, swinging his quarterstaff towards the warlock's head. The blow caught him by surprise, knocking him onto the ground and ending his chant. Although the pain slowly faded away, Colben did not bother getting up yet, instead focusing his energy on chanting. The flames on the warlock slowly died down as he groaned in pain, Salin looking down upon him. Naur approached Colben, offering his hand to help the veteran up.

"Thanks," Colben groaned, grabbing the vindicator's hand. "The warlock caught me off guard."

"Well, I wouldn't blame you for letting your guard down, even for a moment," Naur told him, lifting the veteran up from the ground. "You did set him on fire after all."

"Speaking of, I don't think he has much longer from this world," Salin announced, turning to them. "I don't think we can get any information out of him."

"Not you two," Colben corrected, walking forward to his defeated opponent. "You're too lawful to take drastic measures. Not me. If your precious Light has a problem with what I'm about to do, leave the room now."

Naur nodded while Salin took a step back in shock, remaining still. Colben knelt down by the fallen warlock, looking at his injuries. Salin was right about the warlock not having much longer, the burn marks quite severe. The fel orc had his eyes closed, taking slow breaths in preparation for the afterlife that awaited him. The veteran placed his thumb on his opponent's windpipe, applying light pressure to wake up the fel orc. The warlock opened his eyes, leading to Colben raising his thumb slightly.

"Leave me," the fel orc groaned.

"Not happening," Colben declined. "You may be suffering now but that pain is nothing compared to what I can do to you in your final moments. So, tell me about what awaits us further on. And I want actual answers."

"Bah, you'll all die," the fel orc declared, his chest rising. "Brak'thur told us of your plans. Those who face the Warchief will soon find themselves outnumbered."

"A trap, huh?" Colben confirmed.

"They're going to die," Naur whispered behind him, a hint of sorrow in his voice.

"You're right about that," Colben agreed with a grin. "More pathetic warriors will fall against Oliktalv and Gregory. So, Brak'thur lives."

"Yes," the warlock wheezed. "But the Warchief has sent him away so he may recover as thanks to his service."

"Finally, where is the demon that is fueling the Fel Horde with its blood," Colben finally asked.

"You are blind if you cannot see what is before you," the warlock muttered, grinning in defiance.

Colben grunted before slamming his fist down on the fel orc's throat. The warlock reached for his throat, gasping for air with his windpipe broken. After a few seconds, his eyes rolled back into his head, although the veteran was not certain whether it was from the blow or from his wounds. He stood up, turning back to the two paladins. Salin looked upon the fallen warlock, somewhat horrified by the action. Naur was missing.

"Where is he?" Colben asked, turning his head to Salin.

"You just-" Salin started

"What I did isn't important," Colben interrupted. "He was our enemy and was going to die regardless. Now, where is Naur?"

"Well, you did tell us we were allowed to leave if we had a problem with your actions," Salin answered, grinning weakly. "In all honesty, I don't know where he went."

"When did he leave?" Colben asked, coming to a realization.

"Uh, after the warlock said Kargath was waiting with a trap, I believe," Salin replied, uncertain.

"Damn it," Colben cursed. "He's going to get himself killed trying to save Gregory and the others."

Colben gritted his rotted teeth in anger, his hands forming into fists. Being a vindicator and warrior of the Light, Naur would do what he believes to be right. He believed that Gregory and the orcs were more than capable enough to handle the fel orcs who get in their way and did not bothered to dwell on the trap. Brak'thur, although alive, was not in Hellfire Citadel, so the veteran saw no need to worry about him just yet. He needed to focus his undivided attention on the warlock's final and cryptic message.

"We have to go after Naur," Salin demanded. "He needs our help!"

"If he wants to die, he can do that on his own," Colben declared bluntly. "Now, silence yourself so I can think about where the demon is."

Colben held his chin in his hand, deep in thought. The warlock called him blind before dying, meaning the answer might be in front of him. No, that could not be the case. Such a large demon could not be contained in this room. And what of the chanting before? What spell was the warlock casting? Perhaps there was a secret door? Maybe he was trying to cast a portal or summon the demon into the room? The possibilities were endless and Colben was frustrated. He did not know enough to have a definite answer.

"Uh, Colben," Salin called out, his voice cracking.

"Salin, think your next words carefully," Colben threaten.

"Look down," Salin commanded.

With a sigh, Colben decided to humor the Blood Knight, turning his gaze downward. His eyes focused on the glass floor, making out the level beneath them. There were fel orc spellcasters all working on a spell surrounding what appeared to be a statue of a large pit lord. Then, the veteran's jaw dropped, taking notice of one of the statue's arm's budging. The pit lord did not willingly serve the Fel Horde but was imprisoned by them. And with one of the warlocks keeping the mighty demon contained deceased, it was slowly working on breaking free. There was only one option left.

"Salin, do you think you can break our way through the glass," Colben asked, turning to the elf. "We don't have anytime to waste before that thing tries to escape."

"I can try," Salin answered honestly. "But can the two of us slay the demon."

"Probably not," Colben shrugged. "If I'm going to die again, I'd rather not fall on a fel orc's ax. So, get to work."

* * *

 **A/N: After a long break, I have returned.**

 **I plan on keeping things short for this since there's not really anything to talk about. In preparation for NaNoWriMo, I decided to spend some time planning out my potential novel before writing it. After November, I decided to relax for a little bit to refresh my mind after all that writing. Now that I'm back, it's time to finish Broken World.**

 **Until next time!**


	29. Fall of the Warchief (Part One)

"Keep going!" Oliktalv called out, his group running through the halls. "There's a chamber up ahead. We'll be able to take shelter there!"

Balthar nodded to himself silently, trying his best to keep up with the others while numerous fel orcs chased them. Oliktalv took the lead, slashing his way through any guards that were in his way with his blades. Gregory was a few steps behind him, looking back towards his student, who tried to stay close to his mentor. Gotur covered their rear, striking down any of their foes fast enough to catch up with a swing of his ax. Given their circumstances, they were doing surprisingly well.

After sneaking into Hellfire Citadel, the quartet advanced unhindered, which was a blessing. Then, upon entering one of the chambers, the fel orcs swarmed upon the warriors in full force. At first, they formed a small defensive circle, holding them back. Balthar was thankful that his comrades were able to fend off multiple attackers, not having the skill to to fight even a single opponent. Seeing that there was no end to the battle, Oliktalv and Gregory decided to flee deeper into the citadel, much to Gotur's displeasure. So, they ran, followed closely by a horde of fel orc warriors.

Oliktalv entered the chamber ahead, grunting while he grabbed at the door. He waited until the others came through as well before he slammed it shut, pushing his weight against the door. Fortunately, it was a small door, so the fel orcs could not push into it with their full force. They shouted furiously as they tried to break through while Balthar sighed in relief, glad to be safe even for a moment. He ran his hand across his forehead, wiping off some sweat before listening his comrades.

"I won't be able to hold them off for long!" Oliktalv declared, the door budging a bit open before he pushed it closed. "Does anyone have any ideas?"

"I'm afraid not," Gregory answered, examining the room they were in. "There are other ways to get in, it seems. It will only be a matter of time until they fight us again, either by bursting through that door or sneaking in through another."

"They were waiting for us," Balthar speculated, taking in a deep breath. "We won't be able to push further while being chased."

"Bah, I grow tired of running," Gotur grunted, raising his ax onto his shoulder. "Continue on without me so I may unleash my might upon these fools!"

"Gotur, we need you to face Kargath!" Oliktalv countered, grunting as he continued pushing against the door.

"The three of you will be enough to handle that pathetic Warchief," Gotur argued, walking to the door. "If you're still fighting him by the time I'm done, I'll be sure to take his head for you."

"Besides, if someone doesn't stay and fight, those warriors will overwhelm us sooner or later," Gregory quickly added. "We saw him fight numerous foes before at the stadium and survive. He can stall them."

"But-" Oliktalv started.

"Enough!" Gotur interrupted with a growl before giving his command slowly. "Open. The. Door."

Balthar noticed the hesitant look on Oliktalv's face, who slowly nodded. He jerked the door open, letting a single fel orc warrior charge in. His life came to an end as Gotur slammed his ax, piercing into the chest. The head remained stuck in the orc's flesh, working as a battering ram for the brutish warrior to push the fel orcs aside as he charged into the hallway. Oliktalv closed the door when his brother-in-arms left the chamber and no attempt was made to open it again. The sounds of steel clashing against steel could he heard from behind, followed by a loud war cry.

"Lok'tar ogar!" Gotur screamed from the top of his lungs.

"He'll live, Oliktalv," Balthar tried to assure the orc. "He can handle them by himself."

"Enough talk," Oliktalv commanded, turning away from the door. "We need to press on."

Nodding, Gregory led the way through one of the hallways, followed by Balthar and Oliktalv. Soon, the sounds of battle declined, followed by a silence falling upon the trio. Balthar dared not speak, figuring that his mentor would criticize him for his actions as before. He also expected Oliktalv to remain quiet as well, figuring he was deep in thought. The orc left behind a close ally against a much larger force. Still, he had faith that Gotur would survive the battle and join them in their battle.

After what seemed like hours, the group arrived in a small chamber. Gregory and Oliktalv walked up to the center of the room while Balthar stood behind his mentor. They gazed upon a raised throne overlooking the room with a fel orc seated upon it. His skin was a much darker shade of red, almost black, and he wore grey armor with spiked shoulders. The young man focused on the orc's arms, which have been replaced by two, crude blades. Flanking the throne were four fel guards wielding similar armor and bearing halberds, most likely a honor guard.

"Balthar, stay behind me," Gregory whispered. "These foes will make short work of you should you fight them."

"Of course," Balthar whispered back, gulping.

"So, this is where Kargath Bladefist, Warchief of the Fel Horde, hides," Oliktalv insulted, stepping forward "Were you a true orc, you would have faced us sooner in battle."

"An assassin dares lecture me on honor," Kargath chuckled madly, standing up. "An assassin from a false Horde, no less. I will enjoy hearing you scream in pain as you draw your final breath. Kill them!"

At their Warchief's command, the four warriors charged forward the trio. Gregory and Oliktalv met the charge with their own as Balthar stood back, following his master's command. He wished he could help even the odds against their opponents with his friends being outnumbered two to one each. Yet, the young man knew it would be best to stay back as Gregory commanded. He would only get in the way of the more skilled fighters of their party.

Oliktalv threw a kick, pushing one of the warriors back. He raised his swords to block the the second warrior's halberd. Yet, the force of the blow was enough to force the orc back as he grunted. The warrior grinned, trying to advance upon his opponent with a wild charge. Yet, Oliktalv was able to step to the side, swinging his blades to cut down his foe. Blood flew from the fel orc who collapsed onto the ground behind his opponent. The orc pushed on, coming upon the recovered guard. Swinging one of his blades down, he forced the fel orc to defend himself with a halberd before impaling him through the gut with his free sword, ending the honor guard's life.

Meanwhile, Gregory took a much more defensive stance, parrying one halberd before blocking the other, positioning himself so only one orc can attack him at a time. Gritting his teeth, the knight pushed on his blade in the lock, slowly pushing the weapon back. With a loud shout, he pivoted to break the leg, continuing it as he swings his blade to his opponent's midsection. The blade struck, nearly cutting the honor guard in half and ending his life. Gregory raised his sword to block the second warrior's halberd. The orc grinned, being stronger than his comrade as he pushed down, forcing his opponent's weapon slowly down. Yet, the knight released one of his hands from his sword's hilt, throwing a plated fist towards the honor guard's face. There was an audible crack as the fel orc broke his stance before his opponent finished him off with a swift decapitation.

Kargath had stepped down from his throne, eyeing his opponents. His gaze drifted downward for a moment as the decapitated head rolled to his feet. With a growl, he punted it away, smacking it against a wall. Oliktalv and Gregory returned to stand together, ready to face the Warchief. Balthar continued to remain back, knowing that he stood no chance against Kargath. Yet, Oliktalv's speed and Gregory's fortitude should be enough to overcome their opponent, especially fighting together.

"It seems that you are not just assassins," Kargath commented, pointing one of his blades towards Gregory. "You, pale skin, I shall mount your head upon a pike so that you may see your pathetic fortress burn."

"It will be your head hung from our gates, vile monster!" Gregory shouted.

"And you," Kargath continued, moving his blade to point at Oliktalv. "You would have made a valuable commander for the Fel Horde. Yet, following this man shows that you are spineless."

"Regardless of who fights on my side, I stand against you," Oliktalv snapped. "Many would fear to face you in combat, but not I."

"Then maybe you do have a spine," Kargath nodded, grinning sickly. "I'll be sure to rip it from out of your corpse."

"LOK'TAR OGAR!" Oliktalv shouted, enraged.

At once, Oliktalv charged at the Warchief, swinging his blades up towards his chest. Kargath laughed at his opponent, raising one of his bladefists to block both blows before swinging his other wildly at the orc's face. Oliktalv took a step back, grunting as he held his cheek, blood dripping from it. He tried charging upon the fel orc again only to be knocked down to the ground with a swift kick from the Warchief. Groaning in pain, the orcish warrior was now vulnerable to an attack.

Kargath took a step forward, grinning madly. Gregory quickly charged at the Warchief now, giving Oliktalv some time to recover. The knight cleaved his blade down, putting his full force behind the blow. Yet,the fel orc dodged the blow with ease, jumping to the side before dashing at his new opponent as he jabs one of his bladefists forward. Although almost failing, Gregory parried the blow, only for the second bladefist to jab at his exposed arm He gasped out in pain, the attack drawing blood while he tried swinging his blade at Kargath's neck. The Warchief ducked under the blow, swinging both of his blades at the knight's leg. Gregory tripped, falling backwards onto his back with a thud.

"Gregory!" Balthar called out.

"What's this?" Kargath asked, kicking Gregory's blade aside as the knight reached for it. "You two brought a whelp to kill me?"

"Leave him out- of-" Gregory tried to warn.

"Silence," Kargath interrupted, setting his foot down on Gregory's neck as the knight struggled to resist.

"Let him go!" Balthar weakly demanded, pulling out his own sword as his body shook in fear.

"You brought a boy who can barely wield his weapon," Kargath taunted, applying more pressure to Gregory's neck while ignoring Balthar. "Now, should I kill him first or you? The dec- GRAH!"

Oliktalv, having the time to formulate a plan, slashing one of his blades across Kargath's back. The Warchief roared out in pain, stepping off of Gregory in surprise. This gave the knight the opportunity to grab the fel orc by the foot, tripping him with ease. The orcish warrior attempted to cleave his blades down upon his opponent only for Kargath to roll away, quickly standing up. Oliktalv, letting his bloodlust consume him, charged upon the Warchief, not relenting with his assault.

Balthar turned his attention away from the battle, running towards his fallen mentor to help him from the ground. Although Gregory may have been harshed to training his student, it could not be denied that the two have bonded during their time stationed on Outland. Sometimes, he forgot that, but seeing how Gregory told Kargath to leave him me reminded the young man of it. Balthar hoped that it would remain the same, even after he joins the priesthood. Grabbing onto Gregory's hand, Balthar helped him back up to his feet.

"Thank you, Balthar," Gregory breathed, going over to pick up his sword.

"Sir, it is no problem," Balthar nodded. "I mean no disrespect with this but I am not certain we can best Kargath."

"Well, I won't take offense to a fact," Gregory replied, picking up his blade. "Kargath is far beyond my own skills. Even injured direly, he fights the same and hasn't broke a sweat. If I go up against him again, I am certain I won't come out of it alive."

"Sir, there has to be something we can do," Balthar argued, gulping as he thought of an idea. "Let me fight alongside you. I might be able to get a lucky-"

"Out of the question!" Gregory interrupted harshly, stepping up to his student. "Go! Flee while you still can! If Gotur lives and is in fighting condition, send him to us! And if you can't find him, look for Colben or Kelvin."

"And what will you do?" Balthar asked, hesitant to flee.

A loud scream echoed throughout the chamber. The humans turned with Gregory keeping a stern face while Balthar's jaw dropped. Kargath grinned, one of his bladefists having impaled Oliktalv through his gut. The orc warrior glared at the victor, blood dripping from his open mouth. His swords dropped, clanging against the steel floor. With one swift motion, Kargath freed his bladefist, letting his foe drop to the ground. Balthar kept his gaze focused on his comrade as the Warchief turned to face them, noticing a slight heaving of his chest. Oliktalv still lived, holding on desperately to life in pain. He turned his head to face his mentor, waiting for his reaction.

"What I'll do?" Gregory repeated, suddenly pulling his students blade out of his hands, brandishing two swords now. "I'll buy you as much time as I can! Go now!"

"I'll grind the meat from your bones!" Kargath taunted, charging towards the pair.

Gregory cried out, charging upon the Warchief. Their blades locked up as they struck, both warriors struggling to overpower their opponent. Balthar turned, walking away as his mentor instructed, yet stopped as the familiar sound of metal clashing against metal reached his ears. His feet refused to carry on as he knew that after everything he has gone through, he could not leave behind Gregory. With that in mind, Balthar turned around, facing the duel.

Gregory, not being skilled in wielding two swords as Oliktalv was, struck wildly towards the Warchief. Kargath dodged the blow with ease, swinging his blades across his opponent's face. The knight screamed out as they cut across his right eye, blinding him. Yet, much to both Balthar's and Kargath's surprise, Gregory's adrenaline was enough to push him onward as he swung his blade towards Kargath's face in turn. The fel orc backed away from the blow, but was not fast enough as the tip slashed across his forehead.

Kargath growled before resuming combat, dashing towards his opponent as he swung both blades diagonally across Gregory's chest. Although the blow connected, it could not get past the knight's silver armor. Knowing this, Gregory did try defending himself, instead swinging both of his blades down on Kargath's right shoulder. The warchief screamed out in pain as they pierced through his armor, sinking into his flesh. Gregory gritted his teeth in fury, constantly pushing his blades in hopes of disarming his opponent.

Unfortunately, with one clean slash of his bladefist, Kargath put an end to the knight's attempt, severing his right arm from his body. Gregory took a step back as he screamed in pain, pulling out his remaining blade. Balthar looked on in shock as his mentor, bloody and beaten, was still standing to fight. Kargath grinned, stepping forward as he swings his bladefist forward. Gregory parried the blow before swinging his sword towards the warchief's neck. Yet, the fel orc blocked it with ease with one bladefist, stabbing the other through Gregory's abdomen.

Balthar's jaw dropped once more as his mentor collapsed onto the ground, shocked beyond words. Gregory turned his head towards the hallway, spotting his student with his remaining eye. He locked his gaze upon Balthar, a tear falling from his eye. Mentally, Balthar knew why the knight teared up during his final moments. He fought so hard to give his student a chance to flee and he wasted those moments. For the final time, he disappointed his mentor.

"Do you have any final words before I end your pathetic life?" Kargath asked, taunting his opponent one final time.

"Balthar," Gregory croaked out, reaching toward his student with the stump where his right hand was. "It's up to you now, lad. Remember your training. No matter what path you take, my discipline help you, even now."

With his remaining hand, he slid forward his sword, it bumping against Balthar's boot. The young man reached down to pick it up, looking upon the engravings on it. It was the honorary knight sword gifted to him for his service during the Second War. Balthat turned back to his mentor, and much to his surprise, he saw the veteran smile. Even in immense pain and close to death, he was able to find peace to hold on.

"Gregory," Balthar muttered, closing his eyes

"Balthar," Gregory called out weakly, prompting his student to open his eyes. "I'm proud of-"

Kargath jabbed his bladefist through the fallen knight's chest as Gregory gasped out his final breath, his eye closing.

""Bah, I grow tired of your words," Kargath announced, pulling his bladefist free, turning to face Balthar. "What're you waiting for? I just killed your comrade right in front of you, any true warrior would try to cut me down!"

Balthar was not a true warrior. He never was. Even now, he struggled to hold Gregory's blade straight to challenge Kargath. His mentor had fallen. Oliktalv clung onto life, but without a healer, he too would fall. And now, he was about to fall. Yet, Balthar would stand and fight at the very least. He would show Kargath why Gregory was proud of him.

Those who remained standing were shocked at the sound of marching coming from the hallway. While Kargath was shocked by the appearance of a fourth intruder, Balthar grinned to himself. During all the action, he had forgotten that Gotur remained. Having finished off the fel orcs, the brutish orc would finally join the battle. If anyone stood a chance of slaying the Warchief, it was him.

Turning his head to the side, he found himself not looking at Gotur, but rather at Naur. The draenei gripped his shoulder with one plated hand, the other leaning his maul against his shoulder. The vindicator scanned around the room, focusing on the fallen Gregory and injured Oliktalv. Then, his gaze fell upon Kargath, and looking into his eyes, Balthar swore he saw a hint of anger in the draenei's eyes. Meanwhile, the Warchief grinned, pointing his blade towards the pair.

"It has been too long since I've butchered a draenei," Kargath snarled. "I will be sure to take my time ending your life."

"Naur-" Balthar started

"Stay back, Balthar," Naur ordered, clearly holding back his rage, stepping forward as he gripped his maul in both hands. "Tend to Oliktalv while he still lives. I shall finish off Kargath."

* * *

 **A/N: Going to be short with this since there's probably a lot of information to digest from this chapter. I took a little bit of time to review my notes for Broken World and wrote out a new outline for the final chapters. I also repeated the process with my other work, so my apologies on keeping you all waiting.**

 **Also, starting from now, updates will move to once a week on Thursdays, as I will be taking this time to plan the sequel to Broken World.**

 **Until next time.**


	30. Fall of the Warchief (Part Two)

Naur was too late to save his comrades. Gotur was nowhere to be seen, where he was, the vindicator did not know. Oliktalv was on death's door, stubbornly holding onto life to defy Kargath as long as possible. With a spell, the vindicator could heal and strengthen the orc warrior, but not now. He needed to wait for the Warchief before him to come so distracted in combat that he fails to see a second warrior joining in on the fight.

The death of Gregory was enough to null Naur's usually calm demeanor yet he tried to keep his mind clear of his anger and grief. Although they had their disagreements, Naur respected the knight. He was a valiant leader, a honorable warrior and a just man who the draenei respected. Gregory sacrificed his reputation joining with the champions of the Horde to stand against Kargath. Yet, with the knight having sacrificed his life for such a mission, Naur would make sure that the name of Gregory Kell would be remembered as a hero to the Alliance.

Naur stepped passed by the shocked Balthar as he gazed upon Kargath. The fel orc stepped over Gregory's corpse, grinning as he prowled over to the draenei. Despite his injuries, the Warchief was still in peak condition with both speed and strength thanks to his demonic blood. Yet, with the backing of the Light, Naur knew that not only would he match Kargath, but exceed him in battle. As long as he had the Light, the Vindicator knew that he would not fail.

The two combatants met, their weapons clashing down. Kargath caught the head of the maul between his bladefists, stopping it from striking his chest. Naur jerked it away, swinging it in a wide arc towards the Warchief. With a snarl, the fel orc jumped back, avoiding the attack before it could connect. Both warriors dashed toward their foe, showing no mercy with another deadly offensive. Having a plan in mind, Naur raised his maul up to prepare for a slam, leaving himself vulnerable to attack. Grinning, Kargath jabbed both of his bladefists towards the vindicator's chest. Having no way to defend himself physically, Naur whispered an inaudible command.

The bladefists deflected off his armor, much to Kargath's surprise. In shock, the fel orc briefly saw a light, golden aura surrounding the draenei. The Light had answered Naur's call, protecting him from a mortal blow while strengthening him. The maul slammed down on the Warchief's already injured right shoulder. There was a cracking of bone, Kargath screaming out in pain as the sword stuck in his shoulder digs itself deeper into his flesh. Not relenting, the vindicator then swung his maul towards the Warchief's chest, knocking the fel orc down. As the holy shield faded from him, Naur grinned in victory. Now, his opponent's arm was useless, and if he lived, a good amount of his ribs would be cracked.

Naur turned his gaze towards Oliktalv. During the duel, Balthar had made his way around the two combatants, and knelt down next to the orc warrior. His hands pressed against his comrade's wound, trying his best to stop the blood, which began to stain his armor. Yet, the vindicator knew that without proper treatment, Oliktalv would pass away. Naur could channel a holy spell to heal the warrior, yet that would leave him exposed to an attack from Kargath, who had just finished rising from the ground. If it became apparent he could not best the Warchief or was running out of time, he would be willing to make that sacrifice. For now, he needed to keep the fel orc's attention away from his friends.

"You impress me, Bladefist," Naur complimented.

"What are you going on about?" Kargath grunted. "We're suppose to be killing each other here!"

"Yes, I know, but I'm impressed," Naur repeated with a grin. "I know few who could endure the injuries that you suffer yet you still stand, still persisting on fighting a battle you've long lost."

Kargath let out a wild warcry, charging out towards his opponent. Naur raised his maul, the handle blocking the bladefist before delivering a sharp kick to knock him back. The Warchief slid back a few feet with a grunt. This time, the fel orc took a more defensive stance, holding his bladefist vertically a few inches away from his neck. Taken aback by the change of strategy, Naur hesitated for a moment. Kargath was cunning and surely had a plan now to counter his superior opponent. Not knowing of this plan, he had no choice but to charge in and face it head on.

Naur charged, kicking his hooves off the ground, raising his maul over his head as he prepared to swing it down on his opponent. Slamming it down, he was surprised to see the fel orc pivot with his feet, circling around the vindicator to face his side. To keep his opponent on the defense, the draenei swung his maul wildly in the arc, hoping to knock the Warchief back. Yet, Kargath ducked underneath the blow, thrusting his blade forward to his opponent's gut. Fortunately, Naur had enough time to twist his maul, using the handle to block the lethal blow.

Then, his mouth opened in a terrifying scream of pain. Kargath's other bladefist, the one the vindicator thought he would not be able to use, had stabbed itself cleanly into Naur's right arm, piercing through the armor. Kargath grinned in eagerness, twisting his blade within the draenei's flesh to inflict greater pain. Naur released both hands from his maul in pain, it hitting the ground with a loud thud. Gritting his teeth in pain, he swung his left fist towards the Warchief's jaw. The blow connected, throwing the fel orc down onto the ground and stopping his attack. Naur knelt down, trying to pick up his maul. Yet, he soon discovered his right arm was too wounded to be of use. Needing both hands to make effective use of it, the vindicator knew that it was time for a change of plans.

"You let your guard down, weakling," Kargath taunted, standing up with blue and red blood dripping from both his bladefists. "You shall die a slow and painful death. Be glad I shall kill you first instead of having you watch your friends die, one by one."

Naur ignored the Warchief, mouthing out a spell as he began to concentrate. Painfully lifting up his injured hand, an orb of light formed in his hand. Continuing the chant, the ball grew larger and brighter. Kargath snarled, charging at the vindicator before he could finish his spell. With the fel orc thrusting his blades forward, Naur raised his uninjured arm, both blades stabbing through it. The draenei, finishing his spell, quickly delivered a sharp kick to knock Kargath back before chucking the orb of light at him. Although kicked back, the fel orc ducked under the holy spell, grinning. Now, Naur was seemingly defenseless, both of his arms limp at his sides, yet he grinned.

"Again, you impress me," Naur declared once more. "No wonder you of all orcs lead the Fel Horde. You are one who uses his mind in sync with his strength, making for a deadly warrior."

"Why do you continue to praise me?" Kargath asked, clearly angered. "You are beaten, and if you think your kind words will grant you mercy, you are wrong! Your final ditch effort to slay me has failed!"

"Although I am sincere with my words, I must correct you," Naur started cautiously. "My last attack is still in effect. I was just stalling to give it time."

"What are you rant-" Kargath tried to asked before being interrupted.

"Lok'tar ogar!"

Kargath suddenly turned his head around, pivoting his body around to face his new attackers. Oliktalv, healed by the orb of light Naur conjured, resumed another attack upon the Warchief. He swung his swords down only to be blocked by two bladefists. The fel orc attempted to thrust his weapons forward yet his opponent jumped back, grunting. Naur was certain that Oliktalv had learned from whatever mistake that nearly cost him his life and was going to make sure it did not happen again. With his comrade handling Kargath, the vindicator chanted softly, a holy aura surrounding himself to heal his injured arms.

Kargath once more swung his bladefists toward Oliktalv, trying to cut him down for good this time. Oliktalv continued to backpedal, parrying one of the bladefists while avoiding the other completely. Naur noted the change of behavior in his friend, who now took a more defensive approach to the duel. It was a style not common among those wielding two weapons, but for now, it was working against the Warchief, who continued to attack in a blind rage. It would only be a matter of time until Oliktalv's defenses fail or Kargath slips up in his furious assault, determining the victor of the battle.

The two orcs moved their blades at incredible speed, blade bouncing off of blade. With Kargath injured badly, Oliktalv was able to match his speed, yet continued to remain on the defensive, backing up against the wall with each second. Yet, there was one flaw with his stance: it left his gut open for impalement. Busy chanting, Naur could not warn his friend of this, and tried to finish faster. Yet, the vindicator saw the realization in Kargath's eyes. The Warchief swung one of his bladefists down toward Oliktalv's neck, drawing both of the orc's swords to block it. The other bladefist was thrusted forward, aimed for Oliktalv's exposed abdomen.

Yet, much to everyone's surprise, Oliktalv pivoted his foot, avoiding the blade by spinning around the Warchief. Letting the blocked bladefist free, the orc warrior swung both of his blades, aiming for the flesh that connected the extended bladefist. It was a clean cut, a clattering sound of metal hitting the ground followed by a loud, brutal scream. Still in a blood lust, Kargath swung wildly with his remaining bladefist. Oliktalv ducked under the weapon before jabbing both of his swords through the Warchief. The blades stabbed through Kargath's chest, the tips of them both appear. For a brief moment, Naur made out the shocked look on the dying fel orc's face before he slumped forward. Oliktalv pulled his swords free, letting the fallen Warchief collapse onto the ground.

"Well done, Oliktalv," Naur congratulated, having finished his new spell and healed his arms. "The battle is won now."

"Yes, but not thanks to me," Oliktalv shook his head, flicking some blood off of his swords. "Had you not come to our aid, we would be dead. Are you sure the others can fend off that demon without you?"

"I believe they can, yes," Naur stated, turning his eyes away from Oliktalv. "If only I had came sooner, perhaps I could have saved another life."

Balthar was kneeling by his fallen mentor, holding onto his remaining hand. His eyes were closed in contemplation, likely processing the ordeal he went through. Naur did not blame the young man, knowing that Gregory was more than a mentor, but a friend as well. The vindicator pushed himself as hard as he could to save everyone but knew that sometimes death could not be stopped. A time for mourning his friend will come another time. He needed to think clearly while they were still within Hellfire Citadel.

"He was a true warrior," Oliktalv commented, a hint of sorrow in his voice as he sheathed his swords. "You should have seen how hard he fought. Even with his injuries, Gregory continued to fight until that final blow."

"Indeed," Naur nodded in agreement. "Although he considered himself more of a leader than a warrior, Gregory fought fiercely at the end. We should be inspired by his valiant sacrifice to push onward with our goals.

"He's never going to admit it, but Gotur respected him," Oliktalv acknowledged. "There are only a few capable of matching him in battle, and Gregory was one of them. He's going to miss him more than he realizes."

"Where is Gotur?" Naur asked, a hint of concern in his voice. "Surely, he would not have missed out on the opportunity to slay a Warchief."

"He decided it would be best to hold off an ambush," Oliktalv informed him. "If anyone can survive such a trap, it's Gotur. I should probably go find him."

"Do so, and try not to brag too much about defeating Kargath in battle," Naur grinned. "It should be safe to say Gotur's kill count is higher than yours."

"Perhaps, but I have no plans about bragging about the duel too much," Oliktalv admitted, walking away. "Gotur would never stop reminding me that I was laying down on the ground for a good portion of it or finished off Kargath after he fought two, experienced warriors."

Naur smiled warmly, watching Oliktalv walk down the hallway. The orc's footsteps slowly faded away with the draenei thinking to himself. So far, the Vanguard was successful with this operation. Kargath had fallen and the vindicator was certain that Colben and Salin would be able to find the powerful demon contained within Hellfire Citadel. Once they joined up with the others, defeating it would be easy enough.

Yet, turning back to Balthar and Gregory, Naur could not help but think about how many more they will lose. Starting with 11 members, the Vanguard was now down a member with Gregory's passing. And soon, Naur would take a temporary leave of absence as well. Although Outland once served as his former home, the vindicator knew that for Gregory, it was a battlefield, and that the knight deserved to be buried on Azeroth. Once he made sure that would come to pass, he would rejoin the Vanguard.

Naur turned his thoughts away from death and the future. For now, it did not matter in the present. Slowly, the vindicator stepped forward, walking behind Balthar. Calmly, he placed a reassuring hand on his comrade's shoulder, comforting him. After experiencing such a loss, the young man would need some space and time to think. Still, being the only member of the Vanguard in the throne room capable of fighting, he would stay and try his best to comfort his friend.

* * *

 **A/N: One of my bigger worries about writing Broken World would be the reaction of OCs fighting canons. Yet, from what I can tell, no one really had a problem with that. As always, I encourage you continue reading if you enjoy the story and leave a review if you want.**

 **Until next time.**


	31. The Imprisoned Demon (Part One)

"They're in," Belara announced, standing up from her crouched position.

"So, will you now tell me why you insisted on waiting until Dal'bin and Finnal entered the citadel?" Kelvin asked, crossing his arms.

"You'll see," Belara answered vaguely. "I have a plan for how we'll get into the fortress."

And with that, the dark ranger started to dash south east, heading towards Hellfire Citadel. Kelvin sighed, trying to keep up with her. After separating from the group, Belara insisted on waiting until the two scouts found their way into the fortress. When the tactician tried questioning her on this, she simply responded by claiming to have a plan. When pushing for such information, she told the gnome to wait, a fact that irritated him greatly. If they were going to work together, they should be open about their plans, not keep them secret.

Yet, Kelvin ran the calculations through his head. Belara was more suited to work in the shadows rather than a straight fight while he could not handle more than a few enemies at once. With that in mind, the tactician figured that their odds of distracting the Fel Horde towards the north and surviving were low. Yet, supposing the dark ranger had a plan in mind, their survival rate would increase while effectiveness would go down. He shrugged lightly, knowing at this point, he had to wait to see her plan.

The duo arrived at the western wall of Hellfire Citadel where they started. Belara crossed her arms, staring at the structure before Kelvin arrived. When he arrived, he saw what the dark ranger had in mind. There was a small scar in the wall, too small for an average human to squeeze through, that led directly into the fortress. The gnome was able to make out a green light coming from within, meaning that dark magic was used to light the hallways. And given the elevation they were at, the tactician predicted that this crack would lead into the lower hallways of the stronghold.

"So, what do you think?" Belara asked, not turning her head to acknowledge the gnome. "Will this work for us?

"Affirmative," Kelvin answered bluntly. "We can both pass through at ease, and given that the demon we are after has yet to be seen on the frontlines, it is more than likely somewhere deep within the fortress."

"So, you're coming too then?" Belara asked again, sighing. "I'm not going to be helping you any. That'll just slow me down."

"You'll soon find that you're the one who needs to keep up with me," Kelvin declared, smirking. "I am more than capable of holding my own, as you clearly saw earlier today at the stadium."

Belara shrugged, not really caring, before proceeding to slip through the crack and disappeared from sight within a few moments. Kelvin took his time, figuring that it would be best for him to let her clear out any fel orcs that got in the way. In the meantime, he slipped off his jacket, folding it up. The tactician hesitated to place it down on the ground, not wanting to stain it, but did so anyways. Sand would be easier to remove than blood and the gnome did not want to risk damaging it.

Afterwards, Kelvin proceeded to go through the crack in the wall. Given his size, the task proved itself to be easy, and he soon squeezed his way through to the other side. Sure enough, Belara was gone, but the tactician could make out a trail of fel orc corpses leading deeper into the dark hallway. Given the position of the corpses, he assumed that the dark ranger was able to eliminate them without sounding the alarm. While it would not prove to be productive to the Vanguard as a whole, it did ensure their survival.

Kelvin pulled out one of his swords with his right hand and his trusty flintlock pistol with the other, making his way down the hallway, following the path of fallen warrior. The troll marksman was not the only one low on ammo with the tactician only having one bullet remaining. The gnome had to save it until he needed it, most likely to save his life from a fel orc. Eventually, Kelvin found Belara in front of a large, metal gate, with two deceased warriors to her side. After a moment of examination, he discovered a lever to their right, which, when pulled, would open the gate.

"You certainly took your time," Belara commented sarcastically. "One of the warriors tried to say something before I stabbed him in the throat. Said something along the lines of that we shouldn't free the prisoner. Called him Magtheridon."

"Prisoner?" Kelvin asked, stroking his chin in thought. "Interesting. That was a possibility I never considered."

"What're you going on about this time?" Belara asked, looking at the gnome.

"We always assumed that the demon, Magtheridon, was working with the Fel Horde," Kelvin started. "Yet, we now know the Fel Horde the Illidari, which, as far as we know, is not associated with the Burning Legion. Therefore, the theory that the Fel Horde imprisoned a powerful demon to empower their warriors is highly plausible."

"So, this gate is the entrance to the demon's cell," Belara nodded. "We could leave it be. If it isn't allied with the Fel Hor-"

"Regardless of if Magtheridon gives up his blood willingly or not, he is still a threat," Kelvin announced, walking over to the lever. "We proceed as planned: to eliminate the source of demonic blood."

Belara nodded, allowing for Kelvin to proceed. The tactician grabbed onto the lever, pushing it. Gears started to turn, the gate being pulled up to reveal a massive, circular chamber to them. Before the two now was a enormous pit lord, nearly reaching up to the glass ceiling above while wielding a massive spear. It was petrified in stone, an enchantment being constantly channeled by five warlocks circled around the grand demon. One of the warlocks turned his head towards the sound of the opening gate, breaking the spell to shout out a warning in orcish.

The warlock's warning turned out into a scream of pain, Belara's daggers sinking deeply into orc's chest, ending his life. She turned back to the gnome, pointing her thumb to her right, before dashing off in the opposite direction. Kelvin nodded, running to the right to face the warlocks on that side. One of them tried chanting a spell only to be interrupted with the tactician jumping up, slashing his blade towards his opponent's chest, ending his life and staining his white tunic with dark blood. Seeing that the second warlock was close to finishing his spell, Kelvin simply took aim with his pistol and pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced the fel orc's throat, sending him down onto the ground with a thud.

Kelvin turned back to the imprisoned pit lord, taking a few steps back, taking notice of the cracks on the stone. Pieces of it started to fall off as the enchantment came to a close, freeing the demon. The massive demon looked upon the tactician and Belara, who had rejoined her comrade after eliminating the other two warlocks. Holstering his flintlock in favor of a second blade, Kelvin realized that unless they got lucky, they would fall before the mighty demon. Magtheridon glared upon the mortals, snarling.

"Thank you for releasing me," Magtheridon growled. "Now die!"

Magtheridon raised his spear, ready to jab it down on his enemies. The two prepared to jump away when the ceiling above them shattered, tiny pieces of glass hitting the ground. Then, Kelvin took notice that it was not only glass that fell from the sky. Two warriors now found themselves on the demon's back, unleashing a furious magical attack upon the demon. The tactician would consider that a task of true courage, but corrected himself upon seeing the identity of the two warriors.

"Salin, you're a damned fool that's going to die young one day," Belara muttered under her breath.

"I agree completely with Colben, except that he already died once," Kelvin nodded his head, watching the fight with her.

The two sent their spells of Light and fire at the demon, who let out a roar of pain. He shook the two warriors off of him, who both landed on their sides with an audible thud. Magtheridon turned towards the two pests slowly, planning on exterminating them while they were injured. Salin and Colben struggled to stand and the tactician knew they needed time to recover. Seeing Magtheridon's back and tail exposed to him and Belara, a plan sprung in Kelvin's mind.

"Belara, with me!" Kelvin called out, dashing forward.

After a few moments of running, Kelvin jumped up high into the air, landing on Magtheridon's tail. He advanced up the demon's back, slashing his blades against the pit lord's scale. Yet, the tough skin proved to be a sturdy defense against the metal, which clanged off with each strike. Belara was having similar trouble, having followed in the tactician's steps and tried attacking the pit lord in a similar manner.

Yet, his plan worked. Magtheridon was again distracted, trying to shake the two off his back rather than finish off the two warriors. Colben and Salin recovered, running around the pit lord back to the entrance of the chamber. While running, the undead mage chanted, throwing several fireballs at Magtheridon's side. Seeing this, Kelvin slid down the demon's back, jumping up from the tail to land between the two. Belara followed after him, landing next to Salin as she took up a defensive stance while the demon struggled to turn to them again.

"Well, sorry for dropping in," Salin grinned, snickering.

"Salin, I told you not to say that," Colben grunted,

"And miss out on such an amazing pun?" Salin asked rhetorically before sighing. "People these days can never understand a good joke."

"Well, here's a joke: Kelvin and I are useless against that thing," Belara declared. "Our blades bounced off the demon's skin."

"And my fire isn't doing much damage," Colben nodded, stroking his chin lightly. "Maybe if I channel for a greater spell…"

"Salin, until we find a weakness on the demon, it'll be up you, Naur, and the Li-" Kelvin started, taking a quick glance around the room. "Where's Naur?"

"Uh, about that-" Salin tried to explain

"You pathetic weaklings will burn before the might of the Burning Legion!" Magtheridon roared, now faced directly to the band of heroes. "I will crush you like the insec-GRAH!"

Gunshots echoed throughout the chamber, Magtheridon clutching his head. Green blood oozed from the right side of his face, the bullets having pierced through his skin. Yet, it was not enough to end the demon's life, who struggled to recover. Kelvin took this chance to turn his head slightly back at the gates. Sure enough, just as the tactician expected when the first bullet was fired, he found himself facing Dal'bin, rifled still aimed at the pit lord, and Finnal, who was in her nightsaber form.

"Nice shooting, Dal'bin," Kelvin complimented. "How did you know that Magtheridon's head was his weak spot."

"Always aim for da head, mon," Dal'bin answered bluntly, tossing his rifle aside. "Not dat it matters. I be out of ammo."

"So, unless Oliktalv and his group comes barging in to join us, this is it," Salin declared, pointing his quarterstaff at the demon. "Together, we will scale this massive demon and strike a blow to send him back to the Twisting Nether!"

"Kelvin, what're the odds of us surviving this?" Colben asked, stretching.

"Very low," Kelvin responded to his comrade.

"So, we're going to die then," Belara shrugged lightly. "Well, it was a pleasure fighting with you miserable lot."

"I have no plans of dying today, Belara!" Salin countered, huffing.

"Burn, mortals!" Magtheridon roared, recovered from the sneak attack.

The massive pit lord raised his spear, aiming straight for the group. Fortunately, since they were alerted by the war cry, they were able to scatter away from the lethal blow, which crashed into the ground. Kelvin took a quick glance at his allies. Finnal roared loudly, sprinting towards Magtheridon. Belara began circling around the demon, deciding to go in from behind. Dal'bin pulled out his spear and stood by Colben, who looked at the demon, deep in thought, Grinning, Salin dashed forward, intending to take the demon head on. Kelvin sighed before running off to aid the two elves, figuring they would need all the help they can get.

The battle to determine the fate of the Fel Horde had started.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, things are starting to wind down with Broken World as we are now in the concluding battle to the Hellfire Citadel mission. It has been such an experience writing this story over the year and I hope to have it finished by February. As always, keep on reading if you enjoy the story, and if you feel the need to, feel free to leave a review.**

 **Until next time.**


	32. The Imprisoned Demon (Part Two)

While the others fought Magtheridon, Dal'bin took his time to analyze the battle. He was currently out of ammo, and although he was confident in his spearmanship, he was not going to gain anything by charging the demon. Kelvin's blades and Finnal's claws only scratched the demon's scales. At first, Salin's blunt offensive with his quarterstaff proved to be useless, but after calling upon the Light, each blow now damaged the pit lord. Magtheridon defended himself by attacking the trio, who were able to dodge his polearm with ease. With the Vanguard unable to damage him and the pit lord unable to strike them, this fight was essentially a draw. Yet, thinking in the long run, the troll knew that once they tired out, the demon would quickly finish them off.

Fortunately, the demon's weakness had been revealed to be his head, which could win the fight for the Vanguard. Yet, most of them lacked the skill to scale the demon quick enough before they were shook off. Belara certainly had the skill but she was being too careful, taking her time, and fell from the demon each time. Dal'bin did not blame the dark ranger for this but it was not going to win them the battle. The scout had the skill to be able to get to the demon's head quickly, he just needed to wait for the right moment.

The troll then turned his head to his right, surprised to see Colben still not part of the fight. He stroked his chin, casually observing the battle as his comrades fought on. He was not sure what the veteran had planned but he was wasting his time. Surely he could have thrown some of his cursed fireballs at the demon while brainstorming a plan so that Magtheridon would not focus only on Salin and the others. Dal'bin would not be surprised if Colben was thinking about leaving. The scout remembered that it was the veteran who had firmly been against hunting down this demon.

"Mon, are ya goin' ta do somethin'?" Dal'bin asked bluntly, a hint of anger in his voice. "Dey could use ya magic ta help dem."

"I'm thinking," Colben answered calmly. "Besides, you're not helping them either."

"If I help dem, I wouldn't be of much help," Dal'bin admitted with a shrug. "My spear would only bounce off da demon's scales."

"Well, my magic isn't going to be enough either, at least for now," Colben told the troll. "For your information, I'm preparing my most powerful fireball. The spell will drain me greatly, so I need to be sure that if I cast it, someone will be able to take advantage of the damage to end the demon's life."

"So, ya be wantin' proof dat one of us can kill da demon?" Dal'bin asked.

"I suppose it is," Colben nodded. "Belara has shown herself to be too slow and Kelvin isn't in position for an execution attack, so-"

"Wait a moment, mon," Dal'bin told the veteran.

He took a few steps forward into the battle, waiting. From his observations, Magtheridon made a combination of sweeping and stabbing attacks with his polearm. If the demon stabbed down at a certain angle, it would give Dal'bin a chance to run up the spear and attempt an attack on the demon's head. Of course, the pit lord would have plenty of time to react and counter the troll's offensive. Yet, if the scout could prove himself to Colben, then the fireball might be enough to throw Magtheridon off so that he could jab his spear through the demon's skull.

Magtheridon swept his polearm low, pushing his attackers back. Kelvin and Finnal leapt to the sides while Salin jumped backwards, still facing the demon. The pit lord growled, stabbing the tip of his spear down onto the Blood Knight. The blood elf quickly pivoted around the attack, charging Magtheridon while infusing his quarterstaff with more of the Light. In that moment, he saw that the angle of the demon's polearm was perfect for what he had planned.

And with that in mind, Dal'bin rushed forward, leaping up towards the polearm. He landed on the giant, metal weapon, running up it. For a moment, he thought the pit lord would be too distracted by Salin to take notice of the new attacker. Yet, Magtheridon saw Dal'bin coming, growling out loudly. He suddenly swung his spear to the side, not attacking anyone in specific. Yet, the sheer movement was enough to send the troll crashing down to the ground, landing on his shoulder. Dal'bin quickly rolled to the side and back onto his feet before the demon struck the landing spot with his polearm.

"I will not be taken so easily!" Magtheridon declared.

"You were lucky to escape death once, but never again!" Salin shot back. "Everyone, prepare for a coordinated attack upon the migh-"

Salin was interrupted by the demon's loud roar, swinging his polearm towards the meddling mortal. Not having enough time to dodge, Dal'bin saw the blood elf's lips move in a whisper, a golden and holy aura surrounding him. The Light formed a strong enough shield to prevent the pit lord to cut the Blood Knight in half. Yet, the force of the blow was enough to send Salin flying against the wall, landing against it and the ground with a loud thud. His quarterstaff rolled from its wielder's hand, who remained still.

"Did you think me weak? Soft?" Magtheridon asked, gloating. "Who is the weak one now?"

"Salin!" Belara called out, shocked.

The dark ranger was making another attempt of scaling the pit lord when the attack landed on her comrade. When Salin did not get up, she leapt off Magtheridon's back and rushed over to her friend, kneeling beside him. With those two out of the way, for now, at least, the demon turned his attention back to Finnal and Kelvin. He attempted another sweeping attack only for the two agile fighters to jump away again. They would be able to dodge the demon's attacks for certain yet they would still not be able to injure their mighty opponent.

With the battle going downhill, Dal'bin knew it was now or never. He wasted no time in running back to Colben, who still remained watching in his old spot. He showed no emotion during any of the events that took place, calculating the battle coldly. The troll shook his head to himself at the veteran's lack of response. The scout was worried for Salin, whose fate was still unknown. Yet, it seemed like the man who united them did not care for whatever happened to the Blood Knight.

"Is dat good enough for ya?" Dal'bin asked, unable to contain his anger.

"It is," Colben nodded. "Even if it wasn't, we don't have a choice anymore. Salin's down and Belara's not fighting anymore."

"So, if I fail here, we all die," Dal'bin muttered under his breath.

"Indeed, so try not to mess up," Colben told the scout bluntly. "My spell's ready. When you're climbing up the polearm again, I'll throw my greatest fireball at Magtheridon's face. Try not to be scared of the fire."

Dal'bin nodded, slowly making his way back to the battlefield. He did not trust Colben at all and expected for an error to take place with the plan. Yet, the scout had no choice but to continue on. Kelvin and Finnal were both fast and agile but they would slow down as the fight draws on. Dal'bin knew that if he failed, they would all die. With his mind, he could not afford to fail.

Kelvin and Finnal both jumped to the separate sides of the pit lord as the demon swept with his glaive again before thrusting it down on the druid. Finnal was able to avoid the lethal blow with another jump, yet the force of the blow affected her landing. The nightsaber landed on her side roughly, taking her elven form again. Dal'bin did not look after her, instead leaping forward onto the metal of the demon's weapon once more. Running up, the scout saw Magtheridon grinning, having something in mind for the troll this time.

Whatever plans he had were lost when a large ball of fire struck the side of his face, earning a roar of pain from the demon. Feeling the warmth of the spell, Dal'bin knew that Colben was true to his word of preparing such a powerful fireball. Now, it was time to uphold his end of their plan. Halfway up the spear, Dal'bin pushed his legs against the metal as he leapt forward towards Magtheridon's exposed head, spear raised with both hands. Time seemed to slow down as the demon looked upon his attacker with his good eye, unable to defend himself from the lethal attack.

The spear drove its way through the right side of the pit lord's face, who roared out in loud agony. He shook wildly, forcing Dal'bin down, but the damage was done. The troll landed on his shoulder, letting out a gasp of pain. He stood up, backing away from Magtheridon, who reached for his face, dropping his polearm. Dal'bin's right arm slumped down in pain but he could not help but grin at his work. The battle was over. The Vanguard defied all odds and won against this massive demon.

"The Legion will consume you all!" Magtheridon roared out in pain.

Suddenly, a green light formed from the wound on the demon's head, expanding over his body and tearing his scales apart.. Dal'bin took a few steps back in shock, unsure of what was happening before. He had slain plenty of demons before but none of them reacted to their death like this. Suddenly, a wave of flames directed at Magtheridon's killer engulfed the scout, who roared out loudly in pain. The flames burnt at his skin, immolating him in unbearable suffering. Everything in the troll's mind was telling him to flee yet his legs would not move. Fear had overwhelmed him.

Dal'bin could hear his allies scream out for him, having been spared from Magtheridon's final attack. Yet, he could not decipher their words. All that his mind was able to process was that he was going to burn to death. The troll did not fear death yet fire would always send him into a panic, even during his last moments. Perhaps if he could clear his mind, he could escape, but the pain made that impossible. Before him, the massive pit lord roared out as he exploded, sending a powerful blast of fire towards Dal'bin. All the scout could do was close his eyes and wait, unable to avoid his fate.

However, he felt someone slam into him, throwing him onto the ground. He could feel the heat of the lethal blast as they landed on the ground, spared from it. Breathing heavily, Dal'bin registered he was alive, slowly opening one eye. He had expected for Finnal or perhaps Belara to be the one to have pushed him away yet was shocked to see the rotting and singed Colben on top of him. The veteran rolled off the troll, his head facing the remains of the pit lord: a broken carapace and shattered polearm.

"Heh, we actually did it," Colben muttered, still on the ground.

"Yeah, mon," Dal'bin agreed, making no attempt to get up.

"Are you alright?" Colben asked with a hint of concern in his voice. "Almost thought I didn't make it time."

"Yeah, mon," Dal'bin answered, opening his other eye.

"Are we good now?" Colben asked, turning his head to lock eyes with the troll.

"Yeah, mon," Dal'bin repeated.

Colben grinned in response, slowly sitting up. Dal'bin still laid on the ground, processing what had happened. Even when it was no secret that he wished to kill the veteran, he still saved the troll from what could possibly be the worst way to die. As far as the scout was concerned, his conflict with Colben was over. The veteran stood up and offered a hand down to the scout. Slowly, Dal'bin grabbed it, being pulled up from the ground. Then, the troll was only pushed back to the ground as Finnal ran up to him, wrapping her arms around him while speaking in her native tongue. Colben took a step back, blinking while Dal'bin groan in pain, his skin still burnt slightly. At the groan, the night elf released him, looking up at him with worry.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Dal'bin," Finnal told him, her voice cracking with emotion. "When I saw the fire come over you, I was afraid you were-"

"I'll be fine," Dal'bin assured her. "Just need ta find Naur and he'll patch me up."

"If he's even alive," Colben muttered under his breath, anger clear in his voice as he turned his head around. "Is the jester still alive?"

"He lives," Belara answered, two of her fingers on the Blood Knight's neck. "He'll have a nasty headache, but he'll live."

"Of course," Colben rolled his eyes. "Right. Let's get the poor fool out of here."

Colben walked away, leaving the two scouts alone. Dal'bin took a moment to look around the chamber, taking in his surroundings. Belara stood up next to Salin, helping the veteran lift the Blood Knight up with each of them holding one of his arms. They made way for the exit, dragging the veteran with them. Kelvin focused on the remains of Magtheridon, his eyes cold. When it was just the three of them, the tactician turned towards the scouts, walking to them as he addressed them.

"We were lucky," Kelvin stated bluntly. "With the Fel Horde keeping him imprisoned through magic and draining him of his blood, Magtheridon was weak and unable to think clearly. Had we fought him at full strength, he surely would have been able to overwhelm us with his magic. Regardless, we have defied all odds and struck a blow to the Illidari."

"And soon, we must face the Betrayer," Finnal nodded.

"And Deathrunner," Dal'bin added.

"Of course," Kelvin agreed. "Now, we should join the others before any surviving fel orcs arrive to avenge their Warchief. "

"Ya go on without me," Dal'bin told them. "I'm goin' ta find Oliktalv and make sure he gets out of here."

"Well, we're going to come with you," Finnal declared, smiling. "We can't just leave you alone and unarmed."

"If he wants to go, that's fine, but I'm not going to waste my time with this," Kelvin shrugged indifferently. "Come, Finnal. I am certain that Dal'bin is capable of handling himself."

"But-" Finnal tried calling out as the tactician walked away.

"Don't ya worry about me, mon," Dal'bin told her. "Any fel orcs dat come after me are goin' ta regret it."

Finnal whispered under her breath, speaking in her native tongue once more, before nodding slowly. She turned around, walking away, and with Kelvin, disappeared. Dal'bin took another glance at the remains of Magtheridon, frowning slowly. He was certain that his body would heal but was not sure what consequences it would have on his mind. He had stared death in the eyes and lived to see another day. Yet, this time, he nearly fell victim to his worse fear. Yet, that was not important now.

The Fel Horde could replace Kargath, but without a source of demonic blood to fuel their grunts, It would fall and the Illidari would be weakened. The Vanguard had completed their mission and it was time to leave. Yet, Dal'bin was not going to leave until he reunited with Oliktalv and the others. He was certain that his friend. along with his allies, were successful in slaying the warchief. The scout set out from the chamber, intending to find the rest of the Vanguard.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, life came up with a sickness here and a trip there, but I've finally found the time to finish this chapter.**

 **Our story is reaching its conclusion, with only two chapters to remain. And originally, I planned on thanking those who took their time to review Broken World after the final chapter. Yet, I feel the need to address the latest review, made by Urgotking123, who made a very good point. Looking back, I have to agree that the pacing is terrible.**

 **Yet, there are two things I need to take note. I'm over 30 chapters in, so at this point, I'm just trying to finish the story and move onto the sequel. The sequel is the second thing to note. I have made plenty mistakes in writing Broken World but that is to be expected since it is my first fanfiction. Again, I encourage you to keep reading if you enjoy the story and leave a review if you want.**

 **Until next time.**


	33. Bond of Brothers

Oliktalv looked upon the close door, his hand still grasped around the handle. The sounds of battle have died away, leaving an eerie silence. At first, he was certain that the silence signalled Gotur's death in battle. Yet, the fel orc that struck him down would have charged through the door and leave it open afterwards. His comrade had to be alive, the warrior reasoned. Yet, if his brother-in-arms survived his battle, where was he now?

Gotur was an incredible warrior, so it was likely that he finished his battle swiftly. If that was the case, he should have joined in on the fight against Kargath. Maybe his involvement would have been enough to have saved Gregory from death. He gritted his teeth in anger. If Gotur choose to take no action, then he would face serious consequences. All of their lives had been on the line, and if he could have joined in on the fight, he should have. He pulled forth the handle forward, intending to confront his comrade.

The orc was greeted with a gruesome sight. Gotur had been successful in his battle as clearly seen by the carnage. The hallway was covered in the corpses of fallen fel orcs and their dark red blood. Limbs and heads were scattered across the ground along with their broken weapons. After a moment of disgust, Oliktalv slowly grinned. The fel orcs made a big mistake when they tried to face a stronger warrior who was trained in fighting multiple opponents at once.

Slowly, the orc made his way through the hallway, careful not to step or trip over any of the carnage. He was forced to step in their spilled blood, having no real way to avoid yet. Oliktalv took his time, looking at each corpse carefully. Gotur may have held back the enemy but his incredible armor could have been breached and let him bleed to death. He shook his head, believing that was not his friend's fate.

Eventually, he made his way towards the end of the massacre, which was much longer than he had expected. Yet, there was no sign of Gotur, only large boot prints leading down further into the hallway. Oliktalv frowned, realizing that his comrade went the opposite way of where the true fight took place. Maybe for a moment, the orc was overcome with bloodlust and pursued after any fleeing opponent. However, the warrior figured that Gotur would catch up with ease, meaning that he left of his own accord.

Grunting, Oliktalv unsheathed one of his blades before pressing forward. Even though Gotur had slain many warriors, there could be more awaiting them, hiding in the shadows of the halls. The warrior would keep his guard raised so he did not fall victim to one of these ambushes. Yet, following the trail, no ambush came. He was alone in these hallways with no enemy left to face him. Perhaps they were too scared to face off against the warrior who killed their Warchief in battle, he mused.

After walking through another door, Oliktalv found himself standing on one of the fortress walls. Taking a brief moment to look around, he saw one lone warrior walking towards a stone bridge that connected the citadel to the top of a twisted, red cliff. Facing this way, he could make out Thrallmar in the distance, and pursued after the orc. Getting closer, Oliktalv was able to distinguish the blood on the warrior's armor and the massive ax he carried with one hand. He had finally reunited with his closest friend. Yet, suspicion clouded his mind upon seeing his comrade leaving.

"Gotur!" Oliktalv called out. "You're going the wrong way!"

"Oliktalv," Gotur muttered under his breath, turning his head to face his comrade. "I didn't think you would catch up. What of Kargath?"

"He has fallen to my blades," Oliktalv grinned at his boast. "It was a long and well-fought battle. Unfortunately, Gregory has fallen, but he went out like a true warrior."

"A shame that he is gone," Gotur replied, unable to look his friend directly in the eye. "He will be missed."

"Gotur, what is wrong?" Oliktalv asked cautiously. "I could tell something was off about your behavior before I spoke of Gregory's death. What are you doing?"

"Oliktalv, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll be blunt," Gotur started, frowning. "I betrayed the Vanguard."

"W-what?!" Oliktalv muttered, shocked as he gripped his sword tighter.

"You do not know of this, but after Dal'bin was brought back after his encounter with Deathrunner , Nazgrel summoned me for a private meeting," Gotur continued without emotion. "I thought the topic would be about replacing you as commander, yet that was not what he had in mind. Nazgrel ordered me to keep an eye on you to see if you had any plans of working with the Alliance again. I told him that you were keeping information away from him and that something would happen at the stadium. He sent spies there, one of them met up with me after we fought the Fel Horde. And I told him everything."

"Gotur," Oliktalv barely whispered, trying to process what he had heard.

A good portion of his life was spent in an internment camp as prisoner to the Alliance. The years went by when Oliktalv finally met Gotur. Despite their differences and situation, they managed to create a brotherly bond. Together, they pushed through the harsh conditions of the internment camp before they were finally released. Afterwards, they made a pledge, vowing to fight alongside each other until the end of their days.

They fought on different battlefields across Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms in service of the Horde. While Gotur proved himself as a fierce warrior against their foes, Oliktalv found his true strength in strategy. Soon, he had reached a position of command in the military of the Horde, and was given the opportunity to pick a second-in-command. Oliktalv selected Gotur, despite his lacking in leadership. He refused to be separated from his brother, thinking of no one to replace him by his side on the battlefield.

After years of friendship and fighting together as one on the battlefield, he felt that bond shattered. In Oliktalv's mind, Gotur was the least likely to betray the Vanguard because of his honor and loyalty. In hindsight, he now realized that his loyalty was to the Horde first. While it was admirable, it still did not excuse his betrayal. His hand held the hit of his blade tightly, resisting the urge to lash out in anger at the traitor.

"The Vanguard did what the Horde and Alliance couldn't do alone," Gotur continued. "The Vanguard will be able to put an end to Illidan, I know this. I was conflicted on this, but after what I've seen, I know better."

"Do you think that excuses what you've done?" Oliktalv asked, voice rising. "Do you think saying this changes the fact you stabbed me, no, us, in the back?!"

"It doesn't" Gotur nodded. "Which is why I'm leaving. It would only be a matter of time until someone discovered my treason, so it is best this way."

"Do you think I'm going to let you walk away?" Oliktalv argued, pointing his sword at Gotur. "We both know what the price of treason is in the Horde."

"In the Horde's eyes, you are the traitor," Gotur shot back harshly. "You should be fortunate enough that Nazgrel has yet to order me to stop you with force, for if he had, that would be the end of the Vanguard. I will try to vouch for you and the others but you were the better speaker between us. When next we meet, I'm afraid it shall be as enemies."

Oliktalv glared at his betrayer, his spare hand reaching for the hilt of his second sword. Gotur had just betrayed the Vanguard and he was trying to justify his actions so that he was in the right. That was not how it would work though. There was not a hint of guilt at his actions of betraying both the Vanguard and his family. The Horde would hail him as a hero for selling out his friends and comrades. Oliktalv's anger consumed him, unable to think clearly asides from one thought.

"What makes you think we aren't enemies now, you bastard?" Oliktalv asked, pulling free his second blade. "Lok'tar ogar!"

Oliktalv dashed forward, quickly closing the distance between him and Gotur. The traitor was going to pay for his actions if he saw to it. He swung his swords towards the warrior's chest, screaming out a war cry. Gotur was bigger and more skilled but Oliktalv believed that he could not stand before his fury and hatred. He swore that he was going to pay for his crimes to the Vanguard.

His charge came to an end as Gotur swung his hand across his attacker's face. The gauntlet and sheer force of the blow was enough to knock Oliktalv down, dropping both of his swords onto the ground. He tried to get up only for a heavy boot to be placed down on his chest, keeping him pinned. Gotur towered above the defeated warrior, victorious. Oliktalv glared at the traitor, who continued to remain emotionless. With one swing of his ax, his life would be over, and the Vanguard will be down to eight.

"I will let you live," Gotur told him. "Despite being able to command hundreds of brave soldiers, you were always quick to fall to your anger. I want to give you time to think on whether one of us needs to die the next we meet. Farewell, my brother."

"Don't call me that," Oliktalv snapped. "You have no right to call me that anymore."

"I pray to the ancestors that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, Oliktalv," Gotur muttered under his breath, pain evident in his voice.

Gotur released his boot and set off back to the bridge. Although he was able to pursue after him, Oliktalv did not bother getting back up. His body was still in fighting condition but his anger was starting to clear and was replaced by regret. In his anger, he had attacked his brother and disowned him. It could have still been possible for him to convince Gotur to return to the Vanguard had he remained calm. He closed his eyes, letting his mind go blank so he could not dwell on these dark emotions.

He was not sure how much time had passed when he heard faint footsteps approach. His hands gripped his sword tightly as his eyes shot open. Oliktalv focused on one objective to give his mind less to think about: defend himself. He stood back up, spinning around to face the intruder, only to sigh in relief. Where he had expected a fel orc to be, he found Dal'bin instead. He could make out faint burn marks on his skin and noticed that his spear, but seeing as he is still standing and not panicking, he had been successful.

"Is the demon dead?" Oliktalv asked only to confirm his thoughts.

"Yeah, mon," Dal'bin answered. "Are ya alright, mon?"

"No, I'm not, but I'd rather wait to explain. It's only fitting that the rest of the Vanguard hears my news," Oliktalv told the scout. "And what of you?"

"My spear be destroyed and my rifle be out of ammo, but I'll live," Dal'bin replied, and much to the commander's surprise, a look of concern fell on his face. "Da others be outside, includin' Naur and Balthar. We be gettin' ready ta head back ta da stadium."

"Out of the question," Oliktalv ordered. "The Horde will be waiting for us at the stadium. Gotur sold us out."

"Gotur's gone?" Dal'bin asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"He is, and I don't expect him to come back for us, at least, not for now," Oliktalv replied bitterly.

"Oliktalv, I know ya said ta wait, but ya should probably hear dis now," Dal'bin started. "Gotur's gone, but ya are not alone. Salin, Belara, and I will keep followin' ya and ya got da support of da Alliance. We just got ta keep movin' forward, mon. Now, are ya ready ta meet up with da others?"

Oliktalv registered the troll's words, realizing that he was right. Of course Dal'bin was the voice of reason, watching until he formed his own opinion. He was glad to have him under his command. He was glad to have met Salin and Belara, who, despite the problems he had with them, proved to be trustworthy enemies. And then, there was the champions representing the Alliance. Without Naur and Gregory, he would not be standing. Finally, there was Colben, who set this entire plan into motion. If it was not for him, many lives would have been lost trying to siege Hellfire Citadel.

The orcish commander nodded, ready to leave this fortress once and for all. They had no further reason to stay and the memory of Gregory's death and Gotur's betrayal would painfully haunt this place. The troll gave off a quick salute before taking the lead, heading towards the bridge to better avoid enemy patrols. Oliktalv sheathed his blades and followed suit, ready to move forward along with the rest of the Vanguard.

* * *

 **A/N: Unless another delay happens, which, as far as I know, it won't, Broken World will be completed by the next week. As always, keep on reading if you enjoy and leave a review if you want, especially with the story reaching it's conclusion.**

 **Until next time.**


	34. Moving Forward

The Vanguard had gathered outside of Hellfire Citadel, rallied around a campfire started by Colben. Naur noted the tension in the air and kept his guard up. Although they had been successful in their mission, Gregory had lost his life. Additionally, Oliktalv had informed everyone that Gotur, of all people, had betrayed them. With the warrior siding with his faction, the rest of the Vanguard was aware that the possibility existed for everyone else. This level of paranoia could be dangerous so he needed to prepare to keep the Vanguard stable at all costs.

Colben, upon hearing of the betrayal, became instantly enraged. He stood away from the fire, pacing in place while loudly shouting curses to the sky. Naur could not blame the veteran, who had lost both a close comrade and his home. Oliktalv sat next to the vindicator, gazing into the fire with a contemplative look fixed on his face. He was certain that there were many thoughts going through the orc's mind regarding his brother-in-arms and decided not to interrupt him. Dal'bin sat to his commander's other side, his eyes closed while he remained emotionless.

Balthar sat to the other side of Naur, his eyes red from crying over the loss of his mentor. Except Colben and Kelvin, the vindicator was certain that the young man had the closest bond with the fallen knight. Although he had been harsh in his training, Gregory genuinely cared for his pupil. The tactician was away from the campfire, standing next to the fallen knight, covered up by a white linen cloth. The two of them had history for certain, having fought alongside each other before in a war. As a tactician, Kelvin certainly has lost many good soldiers before. He kept a cold and calculating look yet Naur could see that the gnome was torn deep down over the death of his friend.

Finnal, Belara and Salin were on the opposite side of the campfire. Finnal laid down, exhausted from all the fighting and loss while Salin held his head, suffering a little head trauma from his fight with Magtheridon. Out of everyone in the Vanguard, Belara seemed to be the least emotional about the events that took place. It did not surprise Naur in the slightest. Out of the Vanguard, she was the least attached to Gregory and Gotur for certain.

"Well, isn't this just great?" Colben finally announced out loud, still pacing. "We have a dead man and a traitor we should have saw coming. How can this get any better than this?"

"Well, we could be prisoners to the fel orcs and forced to walk off the edge of Outland," Salin suggested with a grin.

"If you say anything else that idiotic, I'm taking my frustrations out on you," Colben told him bluntly, facing the campfire.

"I was just answering your question," Salin defended himself.

"You were answering a rhetorical question!" Colben shouted. "I swear, it's like you joke around anything tragic happens because your mind can't handle it!"

"Salin, for your sake, stay quiet," Naur advised before Salin could get a word in, standing up.

"And here comes the holy warrior who abandoned his comrades just so he can run off and play hero," Colben taunted, frustrated. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I stand by my actions," Naur crossed his arms. "Had I not went after Kargath, Oliktalv and Balthar would have shared Gregory's fate and we wouldn't have learned of Gotur's decision."

"Decision?" Colben asked, walking forward. "Are you trying to justify that the bastard stabbed us in the back? I'm going to have his head next time I see the poor-"

"If you dare try to attack him, I will cut you to pieces," Oliktalv interrupted, much to everyone's surprise.

After revealing Gotur's betrayal, Oliktalv simply sat down and refused to speak. All questions went to Dal'bin, who answered them simply enough. It was clear that the orcish warrior did not want to discuss the betrayal. Now, he stood up, glaring down Colben, who simply looked on with his jaw lowered. Slowly, he grinned, cracking his knuckles loudly in a taunting motion.

"Funny, but now that I think of it, you were good friends with Gotur," Colben started, tapping his own chin. "It certainly would not surprise me if you were involved with him betraying us. Perhaps you are a spy like him."

"If I was, I wouldn't have told you about Gotur," Oliktalv countered.

"No, it all makes sense now," Salin shook his head. "By selling out Gotur, he has earned all of our trust now."

"Salin, you're a fool, and Colben, you're paranoid," Belara stated, shrugging. "That's all there is to it."

"Well, being paranoid pays off," Colben shot back, turning his head slightly. "I bet you have thought of ways to kill me, if not everyone else in the Vanguard. Are you going to admit that or lie to our faces and get away with it."

"Well, I certainly have for you, at least," Belara taunted. "Naur, I think you might need to check his head."

"Check my head?!" Colben asked, frustrated.

"Belara does have a point," Naur nodded. "You have been acting differently now."

"He's acting the same as he always does," Kelvin interjected, not turning to face them. "Colben doesn't deal with loss like we do. He skips the stage of denial and skips straight to anger. I say leave him be and let him vent. It's the only way he can deal with the loss of Gregory that doesn't involve fighting."

"No, I'm just now realizing the mistake I made," Colben declared. "The Vanguard should have never been formed. I was a fool for thinking we could stand a chance against Illidan."

"Well, looking back, I disagree," Naur said with pride. "We are less than what we were before but we faced a battle where the losses should have been much higher. Had we tried this same thing with the exact same plan, we would all be dead. We beat the odds by defeating the Fel Horde today."

"We didn't beat the odds, we got lucky," Colben argued, voice rising as he motioned around the campfire. "Shall we go over the roster? We have a warrior who keeps forgetting that backstabbing exists, a troll who is useless now that his weapons are all gone, an elf who can turn into a cat of all things, a fool who cannot stop telling awful jokes that will get him killed one day, an assassin who shouldn't be trusted, a kid who should be nowhere near a battlefield, and a paladin who leaves his friends in battle to save the day. Myself and Kelvin are the only competent beings out of this pathetic, little lot. So, Naur, or anyone else, look me in the eyes and tell me that we won't get killed whenever we face Illidan!"

Silence fell after his outburst, everyone looking around for some idea on what to do. Naur did not stand up for the Vanguard, knowing that his point would be mute once he declared he would leave the group. Yet, it seemed that no one else was interested in standing up. The vindicator took note of the various reactions his comrades had. Finnal looked down at the ground, sighing in disappointment. Salin had his jaw open and eyes closed, likely trying to think of a clever comeback for Colben. Belara simply shrugged, not caring too much. Kelvin simply looked back at the group, shook his head, then turned back to Gregory. Whether it was how their mission went or Colben's harsh words, they had changed their minds.

Yet, to Oliktalv, the words had the opposite effect. He was not belittled in the slightest but he was enraged. Naur noticed his hands slip down to grip the swords quietly. Colben saw the reaction and grabbed at the hilt of his own sword, expecting to battle the orc. Quickly, the vindicator got between the two, spreading his hands out to prepare to keep them apart. The last thing they needed was a fight to break out. Yet, he could not be certain that he was capable of starting a fight. Both Colben and Oliktalv were emotional after losing close friends and were ready to lash out at a moment's notice.

"We can stand against Illidan and succeed."

Everyone turned their head to Balthar, surprised at his sudden outburst. The young man had remained silent ever since leaving Hellfire Citadel. The vindicator heard the confidence in his words, seeing that he had changed from his experience. Balthar stood up slowly, walking up to Colben, Naur and Balther. They each turned to face him who focused his gaze solely on the fallen soldier. Despite the veteran's scowl, he stood confident, locking eyes with him before speaking.

"Gregory believed in our cause," Balthar started out. "He believed that we could beat Illidan and any of his followers. Why else would he have agreed to this? Why else would he give his life for our war? It's tough to work together, given that we were hated enemies before. But look what we could accomplish when we set aside our differences. We were capable of doing an army's work. And Gregory would want us to keep on with our plan. So, I will keep going forward, even if I must walk alone, because I believe we can succeed."

"Heh, looks like you finally grew a pair, kid," Colben grinned. "It won't be enough. Kelvin, lay out the facts."

"The facts," Kelvin repeated to himself, turning to face the group fully. "The facts are that we have betrayed our factions and should we return, we will be imprisoned, given trial and punished. The only way we can avoid this is if we can bring Illidan to justice and make a plea to our respective leaders. I shall accompany you, Balthar. You will need my help."

"Not you, sir," Colben muttered under his breath. "Right, before this turns into some inspirational scene where you all agree to fight Illidan, let me remind you all that he is deadly and will have all of our heads."

"Is that suppose to persuade me to turn back?" Oliktalv asked, crossing his arms. "Lok'tar ogar stands for victory or death. Never does it say that I can run like a coward, so I will face my destiny with open arms."

"I shall stand against him and prevail!" Salin declared, leaping onto his feet. "Such is to be expected from a grand hero such as myself!"

"I'll show da betrayer what deadly really is," Dal'bin spoke up in agreement.

"Damn, it's actually happening," Colben sighed. "Right, what are we going to do about having a place to stay? My old home is probably flying a red-and-black flag right about now, so that's not an option."

"Well, I may have the solution for that," Finnal offered. "The Cenarion Circle was sending an expedition to the swamps."

"I always wanted ta scout dat region," Dal'bin weakly smiled.

"The swamps, or Zangarmarsh, as my people called them, may be a good place to head to start out," Naur advised. "Not to mention we may be able to convince the Cenarion Circle to aid our cause."

"Unbelievable," Colben crossed his arms. "Belara, at least you're smart enough to realize the error."

"Honestly, it's either this or be executed by Gotur," Belara shrugged. "So, I'll be joining."

Those of the Vanguard who had remained sitting now stood, slowly gathering in front of Colben. The veteran backed away in shock, surprised to see that the champions he united uniting to turn against him. Slowly, he sighed, pacing a little in front of them. Naur could tell that he was confused on what to do next. The vindicator was still surprised that he spent so much time building the Vanguard up only to turn against it. Another sigh escaped from Colben's lips, who turned to face the heroes, arms crossed.

"Look, I'm sorry," Colben told them, sincere. "I was just worried for you all, that's it. I thought that you were good enough where we wouldn't experience loss but I was wrong. I didn't want anyone else to die because I couldn't stand up to a tyrant alone. Yet, if you are willing to continue on, whether I come with you or not, is enough to set aside any future guilt. So, I'm coming with you, if I'm allowed. You're going to need all the help you can get."

"And we'll take your help," Oliktalv spoke on behalf of the Vanguard. "Now, we should make for Zangarmarsh."

"It will take several hours, so we may need to rest in between somewhere," Finnal suggested.

"I know a place dat be in da way, mon," Dal'bin interjected. "We be good."

"Then there is only one piece of business we have left to attend to," Naur spoke up. "I shall be leaving the Vanguard temporary to return Gregory to the Alliance. It may be a while but I shall do everything I can to rejoin you."

"Couldn't we just bury him here?" Belara offered. "It would save us time and allow us to keep you around for a little longer."

"Let him go," Colben argued. "Gregory has family back on Azeorth. A wife and two children."

"Three children," Kelvin corrected.

"I still hate that I missed out on catching up with him," Colben sighed in disappointment. "Well, no one's going to stop you, Naur. We wish you the best of luck."

"Thank you, everyone," Naur smiled lightly.

One by one, his comrades stepped up, giving their farewells to the vindicator. Finnal was the first, lightly hugging him before backing off. Salin was next, gripping Naur's hand with one hand and placing the other on his shoulder, his face sad and serious for once. Naur returned the gesture before the Blood Knight fell back in line. Kelvin and Colben offered a quick salute while Oliktalv slammed his fist against his own chest twice. Dal'bin and Belara did not bother stepping forward, although the latter did offer a slight nod of her head.

Finally, Balthar, the last of the Vanguard, stepped forward, sadness written all over his face. He had lost one mentor today and was about to lose his promised teacher now. Although Naur planned on returning, he did plan on leaving a quick way for Balthar to start training without him. The vindicator pulled the young man into a hug before releasing him. Before letting him walk away, the draenei reached for his belt, taking off a small tome that was clipped onto it and holding it out to the human.

"Ever since my people have come to your world, I have been translating the teachings of the Naaru to the common tongue," Naur informed him. "It is still a work in progress but it should give you a start on the training I promised. Read it everyday and study the lessons it offers while waiting for me. Do you understand?"

"I do, Naur," Balthar replied, smiling lightly. "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

"You are welcome," Naur nodded. "Now go. I will be sure to catch up to you all one day. This I swear to you."

And with that, the Vanguard proceeded on away from Hellfire Citadel, heading west to Zangarmarsh. Naur continued to smile as they left, sitting by the fire to watch them. He was going to wait until the fire died out, needing time to rest before he took Gregory back to Honor Hold. The knight will be remembered as a hero to the Alliance one day. Yet, the vindicator was certain that he was going to be imprisoned by his faction for desertion. He was prepared for this, already having a plan in mind for his escape.

Yet, even if he was not unable to escape, Naur was certain that the Vanguard could succeed without him. Outland was a harsh world and those that survived on it become stronger with each day. They may even come upon potential recruits on the road. Regardless, they would be ready to face Illidan. Together, the Vanguard will bring an end to his tyranny and free this world from his oppression. It was just going to be a matter of time for that grand and final battle to take place.

* * *

 **A/N: And we have reached the end of Broken World. If you have made it this far, congratulations. I hoped you enjoyed the story.**

 **As someone who has been writing for years, I'm glad that I was finally able to finish a project for once. And I was pretty amazed at how it went. 34 chapters, 78,000 words, 4,000 views, and 7 reviews.**

 **I would like to give a shout-out to everyone who has reviewed this story: 55RAMPT55, Kaidon of Mdama, Reznov, Drognaar, Putscheschka, Urgotking123 and Catszeid. I greatly appreciate the time and effort you have put into these reviews and appreciate the praise and criticism you have given me.**

 **For those of you have enjoyed my story and wish to read more, you have two options. Option one is to wait for the untitled sequel to be released regarding the Vanguard's adventures in Zangarmarsh as they are pitted up against Lady Vashj. Or, if you can't wait that long and need something to read, then I highly suggest you check out Filash Cogfizz and the Deeprun Chart.**

 **As always, if you feel the need to, leave behind a review. It may be too late for me to apply any criticism to this story, but I can certainly use any advice you offer in my other works, both in and out of Warcraft.**

 **Until next time.**


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